Entry tags:
open | now give me something to believe in.
WHO: Cassian Andor & you
WHAT: A liaison from the Shadow Dragons arrives
WHEN: Bloomingtide
WHERE: Minrathous + Kirkwall
NOTES: Some injury description
WHAT: A liaison from the Shadow Dragons arrives
WHEN: Bloomingtide
WHERE: Minrathous + Kirkwall
NOTES: Some injury description
arrival.
It’s a late spring night when a stranger arrives at the Widow Tavisa’s Boarding House.
Most regular guests would take the front entrance and speak to the innkeeper in the main room; but this one slips through the back entrance and takes an out-of-the-way servant’s staircase, into a shuttered wing of the building which isn’t supposed to be open to the public. But those rare people in the know might be aware that this leads to Riftwatch’s secret outpost in Minrathous —
The darkhaired man slumps against the locked door leading into their safehouse. He knocks on the door in a fixed, staccato rhythm identifying him as an ally. He has a hand pressed to his side with worrisome urgency, jaw tight and teeth gritted against the pain; he knocks again a little louder, in case whoever’s on watch is dozing.
No one’s expecting a new arrival right at this hour. It’s not ideal.
settling in.
After finally getting vetted and officially joining, Cassian tucks the Riftwatch pin into his pocket and starts to get the lay of the land, gathering information, pressing a finger to the pulse of this new city he’s going to be calling home.
There’s a kind of amiable affability to this new arrival, his smile calculated to be inoffensive and mild, even as the gears are very busily ticking away behind his dark-brown eyes.
You might find him at the Gallows bar, pouring himself a drink and smoothly sliding into the chair at your table to pry: “So, what’s your favourite place in the Gallows or Kirkwall?”
Or wandering the battlements of the towers and looking out across the city. Rebuilding is expensive, and so some parts of Kirkwall still bear the marks of the Venatori attack a little over a year ago: collapsed buildings that never got raised again, battle-scars and scorch marks from dracolisks. “What was it like?” he asks. “The Venatori attack.”
He also goes for long walks through the city, right past the alienage (although his gaze lingers), and venturing into the deeper recesses of the city slums. One particular afternoon, he emerges from Darktown blinking half-blinded into the dim light of Lowtown, which is right about when a few thieves assemble around him for an attempted mugging, knives brandished. “I really don’t have time for this,” he says to the ringleader, looking more annoyed than frightened; which is right about when a Riftwatch colleague might turn the corner and encounter the scene.
( Also happy to receive wildcards, or to write up a bespoke starter for you; just hmu @
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"You must be our new Shadow Dragon recruit." She sets down the folder and takes a seat, picking up another off the top of the pile in the tray to her right. Her hair is lighter here and longer, skin paler after a long winter, makeup more subtle, but she wasn't in deep disguise that time in Vol Dorma, just blurred a little, softer, unmemorable--not at all the same as unrecognizable.
"Pleased to meet you, Serah Andor."
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then there’s a sense of nagging déjà vu nipping at his heels, a faint disorientation like climbing a staircase and miscounting the steps and missing the landing. He trips over that metaphorical absence, then recovers, and moves forward to take the offered seat in front of the desk. Cassian’s good with faces, but the context’s so wholly different that he can’t pick out yet what she reminds him of. Give him some time to chew over it.
(The two fake servants working the magister’s party that evening had had different names, both of them.)
“And you. The Lucerni appreciate Riftwatch’s efforts in the region— as you probably know, our operations have changed over the last year, we’ve had to go underground,” into the shadows, “but the Dragons wanted to pick up collaboration again.”
And it had been an easy choice to send Andor. They pointed him and told him to go, and off he went. He could think on his feet and improvise if necessary, but in the meantime, he would stay loyal and focused on the cause.