Right, then. [Her voice is strong, deep for a woman, with a Fereldan accent, Denerim slums specifically.]

Reckon I ought to introduce myself... again. S'been a while. We've had plenty of you lot stumble in from the cold in the last few months, and what with the war and all, I haven't got a good look at you.

Training yard. All you that can fight, show me what you can do. If you can't fight, you ought to learn, and I'll teach you. Name's Jone, but 'that six-foot bitch with the red hair' works just as well.

If any of you can knock me down, you win, uh... free round at the pub, on me. That goes for everyone. Try'n impress me.

Where on — Ah, damn.

[ the clink of glass, a cleared throat: ]

This is Isaac.

I suspect there are a number of you I've not met - and if you judge yourself particularly odious of character, let us both endeavor to retain our inacquaintance.

For the pleasantly-graced - or the inconveniently familiar - I come bearing gifts: Find me in the Knights' mess to claim your due. Any novel absence of limbs will be deducted from my generosity.

[ a pause. an afterthought: ]

If you should come across a scorpion, do avoid aggravating it.

Normally I wouldn't ask, but desperate times and yadda yadda yadda.

[And pride, there's pride.]

Where does a guy have to go to find a decent pair of scissors or a straightedge? Preferably both and maybe someone with the skills to use them, but I can take or leave the skilled labor.

[Mostly because he has no way to repay someone for their time and sanity in dealing with his shenanigans.]

Hello, Riftwatch. I'm Kate Bishop, Grey Warden, archer, Forces Division. [ and a youngish, not particularly serious woman from the Free Marches, judging by her voice ] I've been doing a terrible job getting to know all of you good people and I'd like to change that. But I figure, let's see how many birds we can kill with this one stone. We like efficiency here, right? Making the best of limited resources, all that nice underdog stuff.

So I present for you here an opportunity to one, convey your feelings about Grey Wardens to a representative of that organization, namely me; two, ask any questions you have about Grey Wardens and get them answered by a representative of that organization, also me unless Alistair can stop b—canoodling with his very attractive lady friend long enough to help out or Ellis reappears from wherever he's fucked off to; and three, talk to me, which probably involves less useful information but you never know, I'm pretty great.

So, first, a survey of Riftwatch opinions on the Grey Wardens: [ she clears her throat and adopts a less joking, more official tone at least temporarily ]

1. What is your opinion of Grey Wardens? Generally, the overall organization. I guess whether you include those assholes in Weisshaupt right now is sort of part of the question.
   
2. Does the whole Weisshaupt coup thing make you trust all Wardens less?
   
3. Do you feel Wardens are generally more or less trustworthy than the average person, or the same?
   
4. Do you believe all Wardens should have to wear the color grey?
   
5. Do you feel the color grey inspires trust? If not, what is the most trustworthy color?
   
6. Have you heard any of the following rumors about Wardens, and if so, do you believe them?
   1. Wardens have much greater stamina than most people
      
   2. Wardens turn into darkspawn when they die
      
   3. Wardens are immune to hangovers
      
   4. Wardens gradually turn grey over the course of their life. All over, I mean, not just hair.
      
   5. Wardens faked the Fifth Blight
      
   6. Wardens all have weirdly hairy arms
7. What is the one question about Wardens you'd most like answered?

There we go, that's the end. I look forward to recording your insightful responses and someday conveying them to Warden leadership who I'm sure will be grateful for our work.

If you're interested in satisfying some idle curiosity: What's the best Satinalia gift you have ever received? (Or, I suppose, gifts for a similar holiday if you're a rifter who has been here less than a year.) What was memorable about it?

Creature of calamitous ruin. Deceiver. Possessor. There is a wolf amongst the herd.

The man known as Emet-Selch is responsible for loss of life on a planetary scale. He is a cultist, to speak plainly, and the god he claims to no longer serve led him to slay more lives than this world possesses in its entirety. He has kept this secret. Offers nothing in the way of remorse.

I do not care if you call him ally or friend. I do not care if you choose to disregard this, or question the veracity of my claims.

I ask only that you are wary of trusting fully his own assurances of allegiance: for if he still worships the promise of death, there is no oath enough to be given— a dormant threat he remains.

Does anyone know of a seller who still has coffee that isn't incredibly overpriced?

[ guess who burned though his entire stash during a trade crisis! ]

Oi.

Anyone particularly in charge of magic training hereabouts? Jone n'me've got the martial shit covered, but I realize I don't know where to send the young mages and magic Rifter types.

You're welcome to join our lot for sparring as well, make our fighters all the savvier against different disciplines.

SUBJECT: Excision Into Haunted Hedge Maze
PARTICIPANTS: Jone, James Holden, Beth Greene, Gabranth, Margaery Tyrell, Adrasteia, Edgard
CLASSIFICATION: Public
DATE FILED: August 2
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: Team went to end spirit haunting of Hedge Maze on the estate of an Orlesian nobleman.
REPORT:( Read more... )

Why come, indeed?

[Get it? Because they're in Wycome? It's drawled, insofar as much as a Nevarran can manage, and just muffled enough to suggest that the color commentary—]

The food isn't bad, but we didn't exactly come all this way for the hors d'oeuvres now did we?

[—is from the peanut gallery, and not the person actually trying to make this broadcast.

Benedict says:]

We tried. We tried to make an appointment with the Duke, but he’d only see people who made them in advance, but how far in advance wasn’t entirely clear, because I’m certain I saw someone who arrived today go into his office,

Well, [Cassius' voice swims closer to interrupt him.] We technically don't know that she didn't have an appointment arranged as of six months ago. Maybe they were discussing such timely subjects as the capture of Perendale. But do go on.

--and so he directed us to his niece Lady Ainize in this [muttered:] tacky [—a squawk of protest sounds in the background, but Cassius must be eating something because the noise doesn't resolve into words—] salon, and we thought we’d made some headway with her but she’s also telling us that-- well-- nothing, really. She’s told us nothing we don’t already know.

They’re aware of the situation, but won’t do a damn thing as long as it doesn’t affect Wycome. It’s exclusively the problem of the other Marches, who, to quote Lady Ainize, apparently aren’t doing anything about it anyway.

[Bitterly,] This was a massive waste of time. ...and the wine isn’t even good.

[Cassius, having apparently washed down whatever he was occupied with a moment ago, adds:] Ask them whether anyone else has had better luck elsewhere. Maybe someone else has earned us a little leverage we might ply here.

[Operating under the possibly tipsy assumption that Cassius wasn’t audible:] Have any of you had better luck elsewhere? If there’s something worth salvaging, it’d be helpful to know now.