001.

[sorcerised]

FORM: Crystal! Or action, if you happen to be around Kirkwall's Lowtown.
SENDER: Arohaerd
RECIPIENT: Everyone with a crystal
WHAT: Aro has itchy feet and wants some advice.
WHEN: Today, mid-morning
WHERE: Lowtown, Kirkwall
NOTES: Crystal or action welcome! Please add any warnings to thread headers.

Hello, everyone. I'm Aro. I know some of you already, I'm sure, from the unfortunate snowbound arrival last month, and then the...incident with that mine, and now some more new faces have arrived too! Anyway.

I'm sure there's many more of you that I don't know. I know that some of you are from this world, and some of you are from others, as I am, but...we're all here, in this city, which is ruled by something called the Inquisition, as far as I can tell, and. Well.

[ A deep breath, while he thinks very carefully about how to word this. ]

While I'm grateful for the hospitality, and please don't think I'm not. There must be more to this place, this world, than Kirkwall. Getting out to see Amaranthine was brilliant, even though we were there to bring the others back. Don't any of the rest of you want to explore? We can go together, make a quest out of it!

And those of you who live here, or who've been here for a while, tell me of the other lands, and cities, and places of this world. Tell me where you like, tell me where I should visit. I just need to know where to start.

[ If you happen to be in Kirkwall to hear this in person, Aro will be the young half-elf sitting on a wall by the side of the road, with a flute dangling from his fingertips. He's very pale and blond, hair short enough for the slightly pointed tips of his ears to show.

Both before and after the broadcast, he'll be seen playing the flute, sounding out a variety of folk songs from his own world. They're strange to people here, but it all sounds like home to Aro. ]

Comments

[sorcerised]

[ He pauses. ]

Wait, so if you're an assistant to someone who isn't in post, does that mean you're in charge?

[assistente]

N-- No.

[A short awkward pause.]

I am-- an assistant. Only an assistant. Uh, the, appointment, of a true seneschal must be-- conducted by the Inquisition. I would never presume to-- I couldn't. Be seneschal.

[sorcerised]

[ … ]

So. Then if you're not in charge while there is no seneschal, who is? Surely someone has to be making decisions there.

[assistente]

Uh--

[Uhhhhhhhhhhh.]

The-- Inquisition? [Very much uncertain on that point.] That-- That is to say, I can, um. Predict, generally, or make educated guess, I mean--based on previous approvals and, and decisions, what the response of an appointed seneschal would be. But I am not--in charge.

[sorcerised]

[ .........................................

Yeah, okay. ]

So, then effectively you are in charge, you're just not supposed to be.

[ Beat. ]

Is that what you're saying?

[assistente]

I--

[Yes, is what he should say. Or maybe he should be saying no. Now that the fallacy in his logic and his chain of command has been pointed out, Salvio is stuck in a hell loop, from which he is trying, and failing, to think his way free.

That is to say: shit shit shit shit shit.]

No. I mean--yes! I-- The position will be filled soon. By the grace of the Maker. Very soon.

[sorcerised]

Oh, no doubt it will be. I'm sure the Inquisition has very strict rules and regulations about how long a post like that can be vacant.

[ There's always a hundred rules about this sort of thing. ]

How long did you say that had been, again?

[assistente]

Since Drakonis.

[Zero delay or fumbling with that response. Salvio is intimately aware of just how long it has been. He has a little calendar somewhere, a little sign. It has been ___ days since we last had proper leadership.]