crystal.

[cozen]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Bastien
RECIPIENT: Everyone
NOTES: Wild and lawless threadjacking is eternally encouraged.

Good morning. I thought I would share some updates on the state of our reputation.

The best news first: out of twenty-seven mentions in this batch of periodicals, twenty of those referenced us in passing and as if there is nothing strange about us whatsoever. That is an improvement. There was a time half of those would have added, parenthesis, an assortment of demons and heretics, close parenthesis, to make sure their readers could follow their meaning. Now we are simply Riftwatch. They expect people to know what that means — which does not mean no one thinks we are demons and heretics. Of course. But they are being reminded less frequently.

Which does unfortunately lead me to Senior Enchanter Verain, formerly of the Circle in Montsimmard, who published an essay in L'hebdomadaire about the state of Thedas in general and gave us an entire paragraph.

[ He clears his throat and takes on the distinct cadence of a Dramatic Reading. ]

These monstrous threats to our safety and security are nothing new, but I am astonished, dismayed, and confounded by our acceptance of monstrous heroes. Even among my own friends, who I once thought the pinnacle of reason, discernment, and steadfast belief in the tenants of the Chant of Light, and in fact befriended because of these qualities, there are those who are shockingly content to trust the fabric of the Veil to creatures who can be nothing but demons and people who have done nothing but enable them. It is no wonder that our dereliction of our own duty in this matter has led us to this devastating moment of truth, dangling from a precipice by grip of a single finger as the Veil and the entire order of our world unravel and rot before our eyes, but I must nevertheless maintain a desperate hope that we will rise to the occasion and not permit these self-professed saviors and secret saboteurs to deliver the killing blow.

So, [ drama over, ] if everyone could stop acting demonic in public, I would appreciate it. But I do like the part where he wants other people to do anything to help. Maybe we should invite him for dinner or something. Do any of you mages know him? Has he always mixed his metaphors?

Here, this one is better, though. Local. An anonymous gossip pamphlet floating around Hightown this week. It says, To the long list of things for which we owe Riftwatch our gratitude, we must add the facades and physiques of their membership. I find myself making excuses to wander into parts of our city I would normally never be spotted, hoping for a glimpse of young brunette ladies who could so clearly lift me above their heads if given cause — which I am happy to provide if any would like to reach out to my publisher and arrange a rendezvous — and one of my dear friends' desire to train a spyglass on the harbor and search for the dark-haired elven man in their ranks, I believe, is single-handedly keeping a local glassworker in business.

Not everyone has lost sight of what is important in the world, you see.

The rest of these are pretty dull, but I am bookmarking our mentions and filling a shelf in the library in case anyone is curious.

Comments

[dirthsal]

I don't like this.

[cozen]

I am certain there is some degree of hyperbole.

[dirthsal]

It's weird even without hyperbole.

[cozen]

Would you like me to find out who it is?

[ Since Clarisse doesn't want him to have any fun apparently. ]

[dirthsal]

That might be weirder.

[ but he's open to being convinced... ]

[cozen]

They would not have to know that we know.

[dirthsal]

Hmm. Depending on who it is, it might be useful to know.

[ lots you can get someone to do if they find you attractive. ]

[cozen]

Just so. And better than wandering around not knowing who might have a spyglass aimed at you from Hightown.

[dirthsal]

Yeah, alright.

[ tell him who it is who's spying on him, bastien, go on. ]

[extortionate]

Could tape a sign to your back.

[dirthsal]

That says what, "Keep your eyes to yourself, shemlen"?

[extortionate]

For all you know it's an elf. Came outta Hightown, didn't it? When's the last time you met anyone in Hightown does their own work?

[dirthsal]

When's the last time you met an elf in Hightown who has the time to spy on the Gallows?

[extortionate]

Mate, if I'm in Hightown, no one's spying shit but these baby blues.

[dirthsal]

[ why does he ever speak to you, he never enjoys it,]

What?

[extortionate]

[ patiently: ]

No one's got the time to spy, on account of how distracted they are by this —

[dirthsal]

This what?

[ he knows what lazar means. ]

[extortionate]

Rippling shoulders, rippling biceps, rippling hair in the wind, rippling light off irises the colour of a clear blue day. I got the whole package — what also ripples, if you ask nice.

[altusimperius]

Maker's breath.

[dirthsal]

So it's not just me, that's good.

[ why do we keep this guy around, again? ]

[altusimperius]

If that's rippling, you need to see a healer.

[extortionate]

Find me a pretty one, and I'll let her look.

[brennvin]

[ It’s mildly distressing to her whenever her boys don’t get along. But also, Astrid’s one of the people delighted by Lazar’s shit-stirring, so she can’t help it: ]

Wait, I’ve gotta ask, this sounds a bit like a circus act, is it pre-hen-sile or summat—

[extortionate]

Naw. Circus is all flaming hoops, ring toss —

[brennvin]

— contortionists, muscle-men, prob’ly not too far off from rippling dicks.