→ ｔｈｅ ｓｅｒｐｅｎｔ ｏｆ ｎｅｖａｒｒａ

[ungovernable]

WHO: Benevenuta Thevenet, Dorian Pavus, Zevran Arainai, Nerva Lecuyer, Taashath, Rafael Viteri AND THE OTHER ONE. I don't know how to spell that and I already looked up Rafa's name.
WHAT: Pretty much what it says on the tin. And by tin I mean subject line.
WHEN: Covering a span of several weeks, after puppies and before showing up late to Emprise du Lion.
WHERE: Nevarra, mostly.
NOTES: Plotting post; original sign up post. Get at me at matriarchal or via PM if you have needs.

Having taken Ayse's information to the Inquisition leaders, Benevenuta is dispatched with a small group to handle the matter in Nevarra. Feel free to do individual closed threads within the subheaders of anything you want to achieve in Nevarra, and we can work out amongst ourselves how best to do plot elements! We will try to spread out plot contributions so that we don't get bogged down in a ten thousand person thread for any one part.

Comments

ｔｒａｖｅｌｉｎｇ

[ungovernable]

The trip from Skyhold to Nevarra feels briefer than the reverse - or at least it does to Benevenuta, who spent the latter half of that particular journey mostly alone and doing her level best not to die in the ongoing sputterings of the mage/templar war before ever reaching her destination. The others may have more mixed feelings on the matter, but as they set out, she at least is in good spirits.

At least in part because they travel toward warmer weather.

[ombranera]

Not as far as his fair Antiva- but further north than he has been in some time. Zevran spends the bulk of the journey observing his traveling companions to get a better sense of them, their habits, gestures, mode of speech, etc. Reflexes from living as a Crow for so long and curiosity for the past decade. Understanding people helps him approach them appropriately- when in doubt? He plays up the roguish bard angle, picking idly at his lute, glowing the warmer the weather becomes. At lest there are fewer bandits.

And no dragons.

Or spiders.

And limited darkspawn.

[liberalum]

It's basically the most pleasant time Dorian's had travelling anywhere since joining the Inquisition, save for specifically bear-free afternoons spent in the Hinterlands with Evelyn and company, so long as the allergies Dorian would swear up and down he does not have didn't kick in. But those specific memories still manage to make his heart ache, and even under the bright sun, there had always been a bite in the air as the chill tumbled down off the Frostbacks.

Here, however, the sky is a clear blue dome, and the sun is actually heating what it touches. When they next dismount to take a break, Dorian sheds his cloak and busies himself with packing it away, arms bare. When a wind sweeps down the road, it carries with it warmth, rather than being something to brace against. He might feel guilty for being so content, to be away from Skyhold--

--but that sounds lame, so, he doesn't.

After seeing to his horse, Dorian glances over at the sound of lute playing, which is becoming characteristic. He listens for a little while, rubbing the velvety nose of his chosen steed, a sedate mare by the name of Star, and once he senses the song is wrapping up, he strolls on over.

[ombranera]

Clear skies and warm air- Zevran is all but glowing under the sun while he finishes his last line of the song. It has been so very long since he has been this far north- he's almost forgotten the warmth of the sun and what it feels to have air that isn't horrifically dry rolling over his skin. Part of him worries over leaving Alistair and that dog behind.

Still, there is nothing more to be done for it. The worst of his poisons are set out and if it finds something and gnaws on it and dies? His life will be simpler.

Even if Alistair would make that face upon his arrival home.

Without a tune to hold his hands attention they tap idly upon the body of his lute, his back to a nearby tree, face tipped up toward the sun. He hears someone approach- too light to be Taas, no clink of armor nor swirl of skirts which cuts Nerva and Benevenuta from the running. Rafael did not often seek him out.

Some fears lingered. It suits Zevran and thus he thinks nothing of it. All that leaves, however, is Dorian Pavus- a curious man, a handsome man. A dangerous man. It is more than enough for him to linger in his current lax posture, all alight in the sun, terribly aware of how it burnishes his hair and eyes to a bright, warming gold when he opens them with a polite smile. "Do you have a request?"

[quietblade]

Riding had never been his favorite thing, but the large draft horse under him could hold both his weight and the weight of weapons and packing without strain. Taas leaned back a bit in the saddle, looking quite relaxed while keeping a close eye on their surroundings at the same time. The roads here were pretty well-traveled, however, so keeping his guard up wasn't an immediate concern.

Yet. Soon enough, knives in the back and poison in the wine would be more of a pressing issue than roadside robbery.

The warrior had given the command word for his enchanted arm ring to the lady in charge, making it possible for him to know if she needed his attention even though he couldn't hear. A simple 'hastas', and it would vibrate slightly against his skin from the earth rune embedded within.

Everyone else just had to get his attention if they wanted to have a chat while traveling.

[ungovernable]

At least for now, Benevenuta opts to do it the hard way - she doesn't doubt the command word will come in very useful later, but for now, there is nothing so urgent on the road as to make it worthwhile to play with his enchanted ring just because she can. Simple enough to bring her mount alongside his, and draw his attention with her presence.

She has to look up quite a way, even on her horse. It isn't as if people taller than she is are such a novelty - petite enough at five six, for all that that isn't dramatically small - but certainly the number of Qunari, Tal Vashoth and Vashoth in Skyhold is. One that she's been rather enjoying, for all that she's only really spent much time with Korrin, and that in a decidedly professional context. For the most part.

She'd enjoyed being dipped, First Night.

"How did you come to the Inquisition, if I may ask?"

--is a friendly inquiry, in the hopes of a better grasp on who he is. With the exception of Dorian, and somewhat less explicably, Nerva, the group that accompanies her is an eclectic one that she knows little. Taas least of all, which makes him the most immediately interesting.

[quietblade]

He turns to look at her as soon as he notices the horse matching steps with his own. She's a gorgeous little thing, all fine features from what had to be some fancy pedigree. It would be a lie to say that Taas didn't enjoy watching those lips move prettily over words, easy and crisp to read from a good education rather than the bot of drawl that followed most Fereldans. At least it wasn't so distracting that he forgot to actually read the whole sentence.

"It was a bit of an accident, to be honest. I was a bodyguard to a noble that arrived in Skyhold, and he cut me loose there to use Inquisition soldiers on his way back." He slows the steps of the large horse a bit so the lady's mount could keep up. "I had to stay for a while to either find another employer or gather enough money to leave. Meanwhile, I got to know many of the people there and learned more about what the Inquisition was doing."

He hadn't felt the need to be a hero, unsure what kind of acceptance a Tal-Vashoth would have in that mostly-human organization. But things had changed. He changed.

"When I finally got another employer and left, I felt oddly hollow. A week later, I made my way back to Skyhold to officially join." There's a small shrug following that, as if to smooth it over. It was the past now, and here he was.

"What about you, Lady Thevenet?" His pronunciation of her name is utterly atrocious.

[keeperofmagi]

The templar armour had been left in Skyhold. It was for this reason that Nerva felt nearly naked, despite the heavy mercenary armour she wore in its stead - blackened steel with silver edging, which reminded her far too much of her homeland for comfort. She was not a graceful rider - her mount an unhappy one, who could feel her stiffness and her nerves, and had tried twice already to take advantage of it. She had given up, and decided to walk alongside the group for the rest of the way, despite how her feet ached in complaint. She was here mostly on Benevenuta's behalf, even if she would never directly admit as much, and was glad she could claim she was here only on orders. But the truth was, when she had heard that the mage was making this trip, she had requested it.

She had absolutely no trust in any of the templars other than Maria, and was determined that this mission would not go unguarded. Not when they could be facing Tevinter mages.

She walked in silence for the most part, and kept a watchful eye in case anyone should fall behind, or wander off.

ｔｈｅ ｔｈｅｖｅｎｅｔ＇ｓ ｈｏｍｅ , ｎｅｖａｒｒａ ｃｉｔｙ

[ungovernable]

The lap of luxury in which Benevenuta was raised by (the servants of) Knight General Thevenet and the Lady Ayse Thevenet functions as the group's base of operations in Nevarra City. As they are ostensibly in Nevarra to rally support to the Inquisition cause, specifically that of a mercenary group operating nearby that Benevenuta's mother's connections have gained them access to, it makes sense; although there is something of a budget from Skyhold, the Thevenets, as well, are primarily bankrolling this operation.

(And Dorian's wardrobe. And the outfit they're all sort of hoping the Tal-Vashoth will get Nerva into.)

It is a comfortable place from which to scheme and plot, and its sturdy, gilded walls have seen their share of that.

[quietblade]

Taas has always felt a bit awkward in the home of a noble family, but it was easier to ignore any social interaction when there was a job to be doing and what he had to focus on was looking for any assassins or other dangers.

Being a guest was new - as much of a guess as someone has him could be, anyway. He's just hoping Lady Thevenet's mother didn't disapprove too much and put him in the stables.

...he's sorry for the couch. It looked sturdy enough.

[ungovernable]

An unnecessarily large flapping gesture of both arms sends distressed maids scurrying, and Benevenuta is smiling - determinedly - by the time she spins back around to face Taas, having become conscious over the course of their journey to ensure she has his eyes before speaking to him.

"It's all right," she says, "only we were less prepared than I had been led to believe for your - stature! It will be replaced. You are not to blame at all; the fault is mine, that I was not more thorough."

He isn't going to be punished or banished or shamed - she is perhaps more acutely sensitive to the impression of as much given that they have every intention of shamelessly exploiting the credulity of nobles unaccustomed to any sort of horned individual in their most luxurious halls. Draping him in gold chain and letting conclusions be drawn about what he might be besides a silent bodyguard. Misdirection to a purpose, but -

It'd be nice if she were quite this conscientious of her treatment of elves, but her heart is approximately in the right place. In this.

[quietblade]

He tries to hold back a small chuckle and fails, shaking his head a bit as he brushes off his pants and collects the chains nicely over his tan skin again. "I do apologize. I should have known not to sit." On bodyguard duty, eh would always stay near his employer, but here people flitted in and out to gain intelligence and he'd had some downtime.

Oh well.

"You do have a very impressive home, my lady." When in doubt, just be a polite beast to smooth it over. Especially if someone was listening.

ｔｈｅ ｒｅａｌ ｈｕｓｔｌｅ

[ungovernable]

Intrigue, espionage, and actually negotiating for those damned mercenaries -

There is a lot of work to do.

Disguising an elf 101

[ombranera]

Right as they hit the border- right before in fact, Zevran takes out a case from his pack and begins to alter his appearance. Makeup to hide his tattoos, something dark for his hair to leave it a warm chestnut color rather than it's shimmering gold, these things are not so strange for an elf attempting to hide from a guild of assassins in the general area.

The corset, now.

That might be new. As is the strangely shaped harness that he tests the give of with a faint frown. "Tell me, does this feel like a proper breast to you?"

Or-

"Could you cinch me in? I cannot reach the laces."

Or-

"Do these skirts make my hips look shapely enough?"

[keeperofmagi]

She had been paying as little attention to him as she was able, but when he wanders over and asks for help with his corset, she finds she is reaching out to do so before she has time to really think about it.

After all, it was an easy enough request, and the uneventful walk had her bored.

Didn't mean that once her brain caught up to her hands, she wasn't extremely confused by it.

"Dare I ask why you are dressed this way?" She asked flatly.

[ombranera]

"We are entering a country quite close to my native Antiva- and there are more than a few Crow cells here." He shrugs, adjusting the lay of the stays about his waist. "I wish to not be found by crows. They are looking for a blond, antivan, male elf."

If he is none of these things? it makes him that much more difficult to find.

"Aside from that, I am to be your handmaiden, yes? Yours and Lady Thenevet's."

[bunko]

"Ah, but my friend, it is not the feeling you must worry about. It is the looking."

Not that Scipio will not feel the false breast as a test. What are former rivals and current acquaintances for, if not for assessing feminine disguise? What good is having a professional opinion if your professional opinion is never useful?

How Scipio came to be along on this trip is of little importance. (Mostly.) Anyone who knows Scipio and Rafael would find his appearance of little surprise. One always follows the other, invited or not. Really, what matters is that he is a professional, with an expertise at disguise, and a willing consultant, so much so that he thoughtfully weighs the false breast in his hand.

"Close," he decrees, "very close. And so would any need to be, to determine this. The look is very close too. What is it that you are using? We had tried sand, last--a crumpled cloth can take the look of ripples, even under the tightest bodice, but sand, this was more a success."

[ombranera]

"I am going to be an Elven handmaiden in Nevarra. The feel is just as important as the appearance." While he does not intend to find himself groped while sneaking about- he cannot discount the possibility and plan accordingly. But finding the balance between size and consistency, look and feel is a difficult task indeed. He has been fiddling with them for the better part of an hour by now- and a fresh pair of eyes and perspective? Is somewhat required.

He still has not wrangled from either of them what it was they used during that One Job in Antiva City, but perhaps he might parse it with a little more work.

"Sand offers a firmness but does not give like a breast should- it is also slow to warm which makes working with it difficult in the south. This? Is a mixture of potter's sand and gelatin. The firmness you would get from sand with some of the give of an actual breast. Working out the ratio, ah. Now that is the greater trick."

[quietblade]

Cue big qunari dressed in leather pants and boots, with his chest bare and throat clasped in a big gold-plated collar. Chains hung from the collar down in artful coils around his chest and over his arms, all for decoration rather than confinement.

His hair had been taken down and braided into a multitude of smaller pleats pushed back over his head, and he was borrowing a more fancy two-handed sword than the heavy qunari axe he usually favored.

"Shit, you look amazing," Taas says with a wide grin as he walks into the room.

[ombranera]

Forgive him, Zevran needs a moment.

Correction.

Zevran needs several moments.


At least like this swooning is easy, he lists back against the counter where he'd been dusting his eyes with powder and lining them to give a more doe like appearance- and this marvelous vision of hulking qunari manhood just waltzes in? He needs that moment. Once it's had Zevran sets the khol and brush down, stepping forward to take Taas' hands and set them on his corseted waist, the tips of his fingers and thumbs easily overlapping now that he is cinched in. "And you? Are a marvel."

ａｓｓａｓｓｉｎａｔｉｎｇ ａ ｖｅｎａｔｏｒｉ

[ungovernable]

Poison, ultimately, is the weapon of choice.

[ungovernable]

"Dorian had an interesting notion."

--without preamble, returned from another evening of tireless smiles at people who'd love nothing so much as to see her fail (or fall, preferably from a knife slid home between her ribs) and unpinning her hair as she leans in the doorway of the room Zevran has been occupying in the Thevenet home.

(The elder generation have largely let Benevenuta and her coterie have the run of the place; Ayse is hands off for this in a way that her daughter suspects means it's a test. She is not unsettled. She is good at tests.)

"I thought we might talk a bit of shop."

[ombranera]

"Altus Pavus often does, or so I hear." He's been careful to modulate his voice in pitch and tone- maintaining a Fereldan accent, let alone a female Fereldan voice for the duration since hey hit the Nevarran border has been something of an exercise in restraint. Anyone could listen.

The deference is less habitual and more wary. They are in her house (literally) and the work is delicate.

Also. Elf. Hard to forget that bit.

"I am all ears, as we elves like to say."

－－ ｄｏｗｎｔｉｍｅ．

[ungovernable]

Even with their busy hands hard at work on the Inquisition's behalf, it would be the height of suspicious behaviour to depart Nevarra too quickly in the wake of the death of a man who was a rival to Lady Thevenet the elder.

(Time to get the Inquisition a tailor.)

for dorian.

[ungovernable]

Deep in her cups, Benevenuta is a little bit hazy on precisely how they'd got here. The general thrust (she laughs to herself; the lounge is crowded, and no one thinks anything of it) of the idea is clear enough, but she's still vague on the details of how they'd got from the notion to fulfilling it. Not, granted, that she's going to pretend she hadn't known exactly where to go...

"This is so beautiful," she sighs, fingering the edge of the semi-sheer garment - it can't rightfully be called a dress, although it more or less approximates the concept - currently being worn by a rather lovely redhead upon one of several small daises. She has the fleeting thought that they should bring her back to Skyhold for Iron Bull, but mercifully, the wine hasn't quite loosened her tongue enough to make her think Dorian would find that as funny as she does.

He might try to. She thinks she'd find it unpleasant.

Speaking of Dorian, her sharp elbow lands in his ribs-- "Isn't it beautiful?"