O2 ♚ I'M A LONG TIME TRAVELER HERE

[slaveking]

WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Several Rifters and native drop-ins congregate at the Tavern as advertised via messenger crystal.
WHEN: Late January (forward-dated for recentmost app approvals!)
WHERE: The Tavern, private room
NOTES: OOC plotting here! Feel free to treat this like a general mingle log, but I will be making empty starters below for specific topics for group threads/conversation. An infodump/glossary link may also be pending from Araceli/Church.

It's past dinner time. This provides a reasonable excuse to drink only out of the ale pitchers set up for the expected guest, although there's a little bread and salt pork set up on the one bench along the wall. Dozens of chairs and a few less tables are loosely organized into groups. There's no dais or marked center for the room, the bar room version of the principles of the Arthurian round table, all being equal in the private room. Which, granted, is only as private as the public announcement and common courtesy might enforce. In other words, that can't be a real expectation.

However, the other Tavern workers are watching the door and main floor discreetly, multi-tasking with running the usual evening business. It's not so different from any other night, not even for the involuntary immigrants gathering on the second level. Drink, talk, and get to know.

Comments

[slaveking]

One might get the impression that Marcel is trying not to smile. This impression would be true. He likes seeing kids in love, and a match between a Rifter and a Thedosian seems like a rather optimistic beginning, at this stage of the war and accidental interdimensional invasions. His eyes drift down at the table. He lets Korrin change the subject. Or keep it unchanged, as it is.

"That's my impression too," he answers, nodding. Samouel and Dorian both seem like rather solid characters to him, and obviously dedicated to war and justice for their own reasons. "They seem like good men to have at your back if you're going to war. And I'm assuming you are." He folds his arms on the table, and jerks his head at in the rough direction of Jamie and Lenneth, camped out variously over yonder. "What would you say to Rifters who were looking to join up? Pros and cons?"

[gatheringstorm]

"There are some of both, though in my biased opinion the pros outweigh it. Some Thedosians have had shards embedded in them, just as you, but not nearly as many. You're the only people guaranteed to have them, and we need those to close the rifts. No magic, no other ability, can do that. So, we need you. The Inquisition provides basic necessities, a purpose, and hopefully answers, the more we research. You could get all that on your own, sure, but not nearly as easily. Free stuff versus those you have to pay for, if you can find them at all due to war and chaos? Not a difficult decision, really.

The main cons I see are simply that you're new to this world and thus need a lot of catching up to do. It's a lot of information to swallow, no doubt, we need to figure out a way of making it easier for you. Field trips, maybe. There's also the fact that if you have magic, you'll be treated as well as us natives who are mages--which, outside of the Inquisition, isn't great. Things are changing, but bigotry dies hard, especially when the Chantry has hammered it in for the past thousand years."

[slaveking]

"Bigotry," Marcel repeats, with some interest and a little concern. He's certainly noticed that there are unsavory attitudes toward magic-wielders, and he'd thought it a little concerning that Salvatore had apparently spent the greater part of his youth shut up indoors. Nonetheless. "Do you say that because you don't think there should be any concern about mages, the connection to the Fade, and all," he says, "or because you think there's too much of it?"

He appreciates that she already set herself up that way, biased opinions. To him, though, perspective is useful. Culture. Bad experiences matter and ought not be discounted, as well as good ones, and a woman who wants to join a war to defend a world that's treated her harshly speaks to something interesting. "You've been treated well within the Inquisition, at least. That's good to hear."

[gatheringstorm]

"I have, mostly, though after the Herald's death there were Templars ready to accuse us of having a hand in her fate. They said the same thing about the Conclave and the death of Divine Justinia. Mages are common scapegoats, though our organizing has cut on that, as has Inquisition leadership not supporting such." Korrin sighs, crossing her arms.

"Any mage who would say we're no danger at all is incredibly foolish, if not deluded. There are so many ways a mage can go wrong, without the proper training. But doing as the Chantry did; treating mages as criminals for daring to exist, imprisoning them in those Circles and forever keeping them at the mercy of Templars? That's no life. And it made acceptance as an apostate nearly impossible, even for those who managed to keep their freedom and weren't hunted down. There needs to be balance. I can only hope we'll prove that the Council is a step in the right direction."

[slaveking]

The description that Korrin lays out is just like what the boy Marcel met at the Tavern had spoken of. Poor Salvatore. Marcel fought tooth and nail for freedoms of various kinds, so the notion galls him, even if he's frankly a little too selfish to take the plights of others too personally. He is reminded, too, of the way that he's handled some of his own-- political maneuverings, but that again is where empathy runs out. He has always tended to look after his own.

A category that's broader and more inclusive than ever, in Thedas. For now, he lets sympathy show warmly out of his eyes.

"Balance sounds about right," he says. "Frankly, I've met a lot more of your kind than I have these Templars. But that might change soon." He gestures around the room. "There's been a little bit of talk of getting involved helping with the Inqusition, and of representation as we do so. Not sure it's gonna be anything as formal as your Councils, but there's clearly a reason you have those. There's word going around that we might have to approach this-- Mr. Rutherford, or someone like him." Marcel folds his arms on the table. "Have you met him? Found him receptive to unlikely causes?"

[gatheringstorm]

Sympathy isn't unwelcome and Korrin's still surprised to find more of it among rifters than her fellow natives. She smiles faintly in response and nods at mention of Cullen, not instantly tensing up the way she would about any actual Templars. "I've met him, though I can't say we've had any extensive conversations. Still, actions speak louder than words and from what I've seen, he seems to genuinely care about the Inquisition and the people in it. If he was still a Templar, trusting him would be difficult...but he broke away from that life, and I can respect that. At the very least, he'll hear you out. Whether he does more than that, I can't say, but give him something to work with and there's at least a chance."

[slaveking]

"Did he?" Marcel cocks his head. He supposes that makes sense; even back in his world, Templar was a rank and set of duties more than a defining axis of one's soul. Still, mages seem defined by their talent-- more than they want to be, sometimes, and it had sort of made sense to him that Templars and the couple of things he'd heard about their special abilities are similarly locked in. "I didn't know that was an option," he notes. "But that's good to know.

"The kind of man he is, among other things." After a moment, deeper thought clears from his face. He clearly arrives at some decision inside of himself. Marcel Gerard is always looking to the next step. Right here and now, though--

He motions around the room. "Is Araceli the only Rifter you've gotten to know?" he asks. "Run into any trouble with us yet? The demon rep has a few of us on edge, which is mostly ironic because we fought some real ones when we fell outta the sky. I have to wonder if anybody's been contributing to the bad name, intentionally or otherwise."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin leans back and tilts her head, giving that some thought. "I'm not aware of any rifters making it worse for the others at large, intentionally or not. Not yet, anyway. And I've come to know a few others; I've been out on missions with Kain and Jamie, both capable guys. Others I know less well, but I haven't had issues with them.

As long as they're willing to help and do anything to rend the Veil into an even worse state than it already is, I'm fine with them as is. That rep will go away, given some time. People aren't wrong to fear the Fade and what comes out of it, at least demon-wise, but the more they see you fight demons and seal the rifts, the more they'll turn their attention to what really matters."

[slaveking]

That makes perfect sense to Marcel, the rationale that the horned woman gives him. And he doesn't know Jamie well yet, but that certainly sounds just like him. "Long as we don't get underfoot," he answers, grinning lopsidedly, his teeth bright against his face. "I really hope a lot of people share your attitude. I mean, sounds like enough of the Inquisition does. Guess we're lucky you all were the ones who picked us up."

Out of the bog, in his case. Horrible.

"Anyone you think we should talk to, besides Rutherford? Or just one day show up, ready to work?"

[gatheringstorm]

"Scout Harding." That's said automatically, with no hesitation. If there's anyone more capable of sorting people out and sending them where they need to be, Korrin hasn't met them. "She's the lead scout, answering to Sister Leliana, the spymaster. Granted, she's not always in Skyhold thanks to scouting, but she often returns for supplies before heading out again. She knows everything about the areas under the Inquisition's protection, and a good deal about those beyond it.

[slaveking]

Marcel considers this, and then nods his head. Scout sounds rather aptly named, unless that's actually a title. He opens his mouth to ask, then decides privately that that seems a little foolish. He'll figure it out on his own. What's a vampire good for, if not to stumble over a pitfall of pointless pride here or there? "I'll write both of them," he says. "With some of the more common questions and concerns." Spymaster. He'll file that one away for later, too.

"Have you and Araceli been out to the field together?"

[gatheringstorm]

"A few times, yes. Mostly in the Fallow Mire, which wins first place for places I never want to revisit. Araceli's light on her feet, a vital trait to have in a land where stepping in water even briefly triggers the attention of undead. And she's promised to join me in Emprise du Lion, which is a complete mess. We'll be there a while, but the Inquisition is needed badly there."

Korrin's lips thin, remembering quite well what she left behind. It's in her dreams every night.

[slaveking]

Marcel's expression sobers slightly when she describes Fallow Mire—he does remember, and then again when she names Emprise du Lion. He knows exactly nothing about that particular nation, even whether or not it counts as a nation at all, or some smaller geographic body or denomination of peoples. The most he'd heard about it is that it is unpleasantly cold.. "Whether or not you mean to, seems like the relationship between you and Araceli's kinda like the symbol for the potential between Rifters and not," he notes. "Makes me glad I'm on your side."

[gatheringstorm]

That last part gets an amused snort out of Korrin, glad to turn focus away from the horrors she's seen. "Fuck symbols. Of course I didn't mean to; I'd never think of it in that fashion. That sort of nonsense is reserved for Orlais and their Grand Game. I do as I please, politics be damned."

[slaveking]

"I'm not sure where I'd be were it not for politics," Marcel says, grinning, wry, probably not referring to anything that's ever happened in Thedas. "But I'll drink to that. Or you and Araceli, as you prefer. Toast?" He glances down at the table before her, unsure if she's been indulging herself or not this evening-- he wasn't much paying attention to the scent of her breath, and she does cut a rather sobering figure, if not necessarily a sober one.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin makes note of that politics comment but doesn't inquire further. It's less a slight against him and more that she's up to her horns in politics anyway. Hearing about even more is overkill, at this point. And though mellow, Korrin is more or less entirely sober. It'll take more than typical human fare to get her intoxicated. So, she lifts her glass. "Both are definitely acceptable."