IC

[Iskandar]

It is the 45th year of the Dragon Age, better known as 9:45. A whole year has passed since Divine Victoria held the Exalted Council, deciding the fate of the Inquisition. Inquisitor Trevelyan uncovered a Qunari plot that would've destroyed the South and brought it under rule of the Qun. Luckily the Inquisitor stopped it. After the threat had been stopped, the Inquisition joined the Chantry as Divine Victoria's honor guard. This was a way to keep the Inquisition alive and allow for it the hunt down Solas; The Dread Wolf. Once a friend of the Inquisitor, now an enemy. The Elven "god" is seeking to destroy the world of Thedas in order to bring his own world back to life.


The Inquisitor vowed that he would redeem and stop Solas, who once saved the Inquisitor. It would not be an easy task. Leliana, arguably the best spymaster in Thedas can not even track down Solas. It is suspected that the Elves are aiding Solas throughout Thedas, as many have returned to the Dales or been linked to Solas.


With The Inquisition being backed by Divine Victoria and the Chantry, it gave them much more power and resources, but allowed for more corruption within the organization. Hand picked members of the Inquisition were chosen to be sent to various nations to gain new allies to fight in the coming war with the Dread Wolf and the Elves.


This Story takes place in the Nation of Antiva, where one such Inquisition Agent has been sent to find allies. Here he meets with his guide, Zevran Arainai, an ex-Crow and friend of the Inquisition. Zevran is to guide the Agent to Josephine Montilyet who once worked for the Inquisition. Now she is an Advisor for the Royal Crown of Antiva and runs her own Merchant Empire. With the help of these two, and others they stumble upon a plot that could destroy all of Antiva... 


(Not open at the moment)

 

[Iskandar]

Antiva City 
​

The Docks
​

9:45
​

Antiva City is where this story begins, it was a sunny and hot day in the capital. The city was bustling just as it has always, filled with ships, merchants and shady characters. Theron Lawson, a famed assassin known throughout the continent of Thedas and an agent of the Inquisition, well technically the Chantry now. Theron arrived to the city via ship, apparently it was a pretty entrance of the city, compared to the bustling west Market near the only gates of the city. Here he met an old friend of his and the Inquisition; Zevran Arainai, who was to take him to Josephine Montilyet; Ex-Advisor of the Inquisition. Josephine was to gather a few of the better known fighters and nobles of the city who could be possible allies to the Inquisition.


Theron stepped off the ship, wiping some sweat off of his forehead as he looked around for Zevran. Antiva, especially the Capital, was ungodly warm, almost throughout the year. The sun always shined here, and could make a dwarf lose his beard. It was comparable to the climate of Spain and looked like the City of Venice. 


"Ah, my friend! Welcome back to Antiva City! Land of Whores, killers and the best damn leather!" Zevran pushed his way the crowd of refugees, merchants and peasants and approached Theron, the two had a... storied history.


"Zevran Arainai, I thought the Crows would've killed you by now." Theron chuckled and offered Zevran a handshake, but the assassin opted to hug the old friend. 


"It is good to see you, Theron. I am to be your guide to Josephine. Come, she waits for us at her Offices near the Palace." Zevran informed Theron and began pushing his way through the crowded docks, Theron closely followed Zevran.


"So... Got any inciting information that I should know before we meet up with Josephine?" Theron asked, pushing away a stubby little dwarf that was yelling at some Elf servant of his. Theron just shook his head, "Seems like Antiva hasn't changed much. Pesky little Dwarf Merchants are everywhere."


Zevran tsked and then grinned, "My friend, you should know that Antiva will never change, especially the City. It is the Capital of Commerce, the land of opportunity!  Well, if you include slavery, whoring yourself out and thieving as opportunity."


"Ah yes, the crown jewel of commerce and the center of the underworld." Theron rolled his eyes and pushed Zevran, "Hurry up you old man. Don't have all day." Theron chuckled.


"My friend, are you accusing that I, the most beautiful Elf in the world is old?" Zevran asked, raising an eyebrow as the two continued to make their way through the city. The quickly made their way through the slums and commons and towards the Royal District, where Josephine's office was.


"Josephine? Josephine?! Oh Beautiful Josephine, are you here?" Zevran asked as he opened the door to her office, well it was a building, her actual office was in the building. Zevran looked around, waiting for her to reply.


"Oh! Zevran, Master Lawson, so glad you could finally make it." Josephine said as she walked down the stairs from the second floor. Her Antivan accent was as prominent as ever, "Come, follow me. I have tracked down the most willing nobles and some well... unsatisfying persons to help you."


"Josephine, Theron will do, I am not the Inquisitor, or some noble." Theron corrected her, offering a smile as he and Zevran followed her up the stairs and into her offices. It was a rather large office, her desk was at the back of the room and she made her way to it, sitting down.


"Yes, yes, but manners are always a good addition. Plus, I am in your, and the Inquisitions employment at the moment, but if you insist Theron." Josephine said, letting out a tiresome sigh, something that she rarely did, "It was not easy finding people and groups willing to aid the Inquisition. The City is... on the brink of destruction and Turmoil. A few nobles and some others I have gathered are interesting prospects though."


"Apologies, Josephine, but I doubt it was as hard as being the largest Organizations ambassador." Theron joked, looking around the room, noticing three nobles, all dressed in fancy clothing and expensive jewelry, "The big wigs I take it." He looked around the rest of the room, "And the interesting prospects."


"Yes, these three represents some of Antiva's most important families. Lord Vuillaume, of the Vuillauma Banking Clan, Coumte Vael of the Vael Fishing Company, and lastly Lady Juilanne of the Le Brun Merchant Group. They are willing to aid the Inquisition's mission here in Antiva." Josephine replied, introducing the three in a courteous manner. Theron just offered a nod, he knew one of them from previous dealings.


"As for these ones... These are some of your allies, well hopefully. Leliana just told me to get all of these people in one room and have you deal with them." Josephine said, leaning forward a bit as she wrote some things down, "Some of them weren't easy getting a hang of either. Maker, what have I gotten myself into this time." Josephine muttered that last part.


"Leave it to Leliana..." Theron just shook his head as he looked at the group of characters. Two Elves, a Qunari, what appeared like an old man, and another man, younger too.


"Oh, is Leliana still as beautiful as ever?" Zevran asked, chuckling as he made his way to Josephine's side, he was her personal bodyguard. He was the best choice seeing as working for the Royal Court will have many looking to eliminate you.


"Zevran, do you want me to answer that or have us both hunted by her?" Theron offered a sly grin before looking at everyone, "Well... Introductions? Y'know the kind that they make you do when it is your first day in some gang."


@Archon @marorda @Saru @ARSENIC @Aster @NecroKnight


(Not my finest work, but it should get the job done.)

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

Some would say that the city of Antiva smelled of seawater mixed with wine and spice; others would argue otherwise. Being the nest for Antivian Crows and Merchant princes alike (but is there really a difference between the two?), Nezlazli had lived a part of her life in this charming, bustling town. The city thrived with activity, both on the surface and in the underworld. This lord wants to kill that lord, a slave rallying against his abusive master, a scheme of treachery being unfold; the list went on. With a web of intrigue veiling the city, one could never get bored hearing such repulsive rumors and gossip. At least, Nezlazli never did.


After residing in Kirkwall for a good year and two, being back in Antiva was... nostalgic. Life as a city guard was a tad too 'peaceful' for the qunari's liking, with activity being only the occasional encounter of petty robberies and wannabe thugs. Sometimes if she was lucky, she actually got to brawl against a real, seasoned fighter; but never long enough to sate her aggro. So naturally, when the Inquisitor's spymaster had offered Nezlazli a "mission" of sorts, she was more than glad to take it.


What she wasn't told, however, was the fact that there were others who would be joining in on the adventure as well. Traveling and fighting with a band of humans and elves was not something she had done since her time in the Valo-kas. While there were more Qunari than other races, the warrior had her fair share of experiences with different races. After all, the Tal-Vashoth are as diverse as those who followed the qun.


Nezlazli listened idly to the exchange between the trio, making silent and brief judgment of each person in the room. Others were easier to distinguish in race and class. Pointy ears made those of Elven blood stand out and others who wore armor were assumed to be either warriors or rogues. When the conversation was finally turned in her (or their) direction, she straightened her posture and unfolded her arms. Keeping her position near the window, Nezlazli introduced herself with a hard grin.


"Kutena Oride. Reaver."


Giving out her middle name always proved to be a better option. The vowels in her first name were a mouthful to most.

 

[ARSENIC]

And so it goes that the beginning always comes at the end of that which came before, where everything's different yet everything stays the same.


In retrospect, it made sense. Something had to. But at the time, the panic of being discovered, of being found, of being an apostate - worthy only of death by one name or another - the fact that Liliana, spymaster of the Inquisition, knew who he was, what he was, terrified him in that quiet panicked way. Not everything, thank the Maker, but enough to know that he belonged far, far away from civil society. That he was an apostate. That alone was enough to have him cut down on the spot. Living weapon. Abomination. It didn't matter that she ddin't know it all. But what did matter was why. Why did she want him, of all people? What did she see?


"A kindred spirit."


Her answer narrowed things down just about as much as calling a dwarf a drunkard. Typical religious nuts.


So she told him a story. A story about a young, Orlesian bard cast away from her home, thrown by desperation into the heart of Ferelden, guided by the voice of the Maker until she found her destiny. All Dez could think of was that she was a phenomenally good liar. The level of detail of her story was vivid, each detail captured with a chuckle of remembrance or a longing sigh. She really did earn her title of spymaster. He didn't even think for a second that she might be telling him the truth. The mere notion was simply inconceivable, so he had come to that decision before she even parted her lips. But the rationale did become clear, even if the sales pitch about finding 'redemption' and 'inner peace' in service to the Maker stank more than a wet-nosed Mabari. The Inquisition could use him. And so long as they did, he was protected. Which bothered him even more - had she simply told him he had the option to either join or die, he would have complied. So why the story, why the subtlety? What did she see in him? What was her long game?


Those were questions he knew he was not getting an answer to. Not soon, anyhow. So Dez danced to Leliana's tune, all the way into the inn, all the way down to the table. The fear had dissolved by this point, shrugged off to reveal an underlying nonchalance. Eyes scanned the room pervasively, capturing whatever buzzing particles of information he could, silently noting stances, features, a scar here, a scratch there, a twitch or dart, the relaxing of a lower lip or the tensing of an iris. His own irises, of course, possessed a far less subtle peculiarity. One eye was glossed over with a typical black, marking him as a northerner to those who knew the difference from the green and blue more common in the Marches, Ferelden and Orlais. The left eye, though, was underlaid with the shimmering twinkle of a familiar blue stone, gleaming like a jagged, serpentine sunburst over the ring of obsidian-black, a faint glimmer of the much more extravagant secret currently veiled under long, baggy clothes.


The Qunari was the first to introduce herself, marking name and role, clear and vivid. But to even call himself a mage felt like an admission of guilt or blame, especially considering recent events - though he had never much liked the title of mage even before the attacks.


"Dez." he quipped. No need to be elaborate - a short name was as good as any. "I'm the guy that makes you not dead."

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya
​

 
​

The Cities of Antiva were dreary, tiring places. Commotion filled the streets as merchants bartered and haggled one another, drunkards and sailors made their presence known through over-the-top haughty laughter, sometimes accompanied by terrible singing; loud bells rang out from the Docks as ships were ever constantly pulling in-and-out of the port. What would be the common sounds of a normal city were interrupted only by the occasional shout - or scream - followed moments after by the clattering of armor, either brigands, hitmen or the Antivan City Guard. Each as likely as the other. Katriel found long ago that corruption was a common language in Antiva, you would be hard-pressed to find a city in the Land of Assassins where a murder isn't found every moment in even the most insignificant towns.
​

It was this knowledge that caused Katriel to shift uncomfortably in her seat, an uneasy wind hung in the air and even the furs she wore, weren't enough to keep the cold from nipping at her skin. Yet Antiva was a place of heat, humidity and dryness - this city was no different - her lack of warmth was nothing more than a severe nervousness, shadowed by mistrust and dislike. The elf reactively bit her lip at the subtle chill, her frame bending in with the surrounding environment, as if she was willing herself to just float away. With a hard and hooded gaze, her eyes pierced through the cloth before her face - scrutinising the few people around her - her stance was tense and apprehensive; a hostility seemed to radiate from her very aura, only complimented by the distance she took from the other inhabitants of the room and the underlying scowl, barely visible beneath the raven black fur. It was as if the very notion of being seen by the curious eyes of others was fatal - to some extent, it was - yet here she sat, idle, in a room blanketed with unfamiliar faces. Each with unknown goals, selfish agendas.


Why am I here... What am I doing?!


The answer? Silver. As much as she'd like to play the prideful elf, here she was. Idiotically following a fool's hope. A contract offered by the Inquisition afforded many advantages: protection and legitimacy. Nice as that was, the elven thief only remained within 100 feet of these people due to the sheer absurdity of the promised payment. The twist? She had no idea what job garnered such a reward, but what she did know, was that this could set her up for life. As much as she hated the very notion of working with the Inquisition and their band of lap-dogs, the opportunity was simply too great to ignore. At least for now... if it was too risky, or if she didn't like it, she'd vanish. This time making sure unwanted, redheaded, bards' couldn't follow.


It was amusing, really. The Inquisition's very own Spymaster, tracking the little relatively unknown elf thief down, in her lair to-boot. It was even marginally impressive, at first... Until her lips started moving, as if she deigned to think that Katriel could care less about what she had to say. This rogue knew the game all to well, so it was no surprise that she threatened to disembowel the Inquisitor's pet. Luckily - perhaps for them both - the orlesian decided to get to the point. A mutual understanding, "Honour Amongst Thieves." Though the shemlin had the practicions of a bard, a thief, she was nobility in all but name. There was nothing but a veiled hate from the elf towards this Spymaster of a corrupt Order.


With little acceptance of her current position, the rogue merely scoffed ever so slightly at the ridiculousness of it all, the trio who had been talking, the introductions... Averting her eyes from the others, she began to reconsider her decision to join this little expedition. She'd be better off doing something constructive in her time - she wasn't here to make friends - as if this rag-tag bandit group could be considered "Friend Material" they were killers, murderers, criminals. Just like her. The Inquisitions' Banner didn't change that, it merely meant society turned a blind eye to their atrocities. A shining example of Chantry justice. She hated everything about this already, and they hadn't even begun; the coin had better be worth it...

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]


An Orleasian spymaster walked into a bar, in a city full of assassins and merchants - to talk with an retired Templar, whom was trying to get in bed with a mage. Sounded almost like a bad joke at that - until it was told out, that said Spymaster was namely an Agent of the Inquisition. The big cheese of Thedas who had spotted one war and prevented another - and then restored the status quo, for nobles to continue eating their fancy cheeses.


Arthur Umbra had almost thought, that the Spymaster had originally come to visit him to recruit him, for said organization. He was old, but the pouch of knowledge he carried was very long. Almost thirty-five years of experience; while eight of them had been action in his retired years. Still, he had been a Mage Hunter, Tower Guardian and even Knight-Divine - a long list of skills, that despite his choice of career had not been dulled by either age or Lyrium. He had gotten a quick understanding, on how that worked very quickly at that. He still had a workable sword-arm and his knowledge of the arcane, was second to a Senior Enchanter. Only he had the knowledge to also counter such mundane magic at that.


While normally, he would have declined - being a freaking, old retired man at that. Although, the reason for his acceptance had been a rather simple - if sober truth. Another war was coming, so your hired to stop it or have another war, happen on your hands. Normally, that would have still warranted a no - until that Orleasian girl had gotten pompous and started playing that Game, on his distant family. Bards had always had a way with words, and in bed - as long as they weren't in the mood to stab him, for a shipment list of the Divine Justinia' fluffy slippers.


So he had - with lots of grumbling and snarking attitude - accepted the task of the Inquisition Spymaster. He had nothing better to do anyway, and maybe this time with him around - they wouldn't end up with the world exploding in half. He had been mostly sleeping in the room at that, having cast a few glances at the qunari woman - the first sight, that had surprised him. Female qunari were as rare as diamonds in any case. When there came a time for introduction, he stood up and spoke.


"Ser Arthur Umbra. Warrior. Ex-Templar. Old," he grumbled, before sitting back down.

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City.
​

 
​

Theron just offered a dorky smile as he looked around at the others, he was somewhat excited, nervous and cynical about the whole ordeal. On one side he had never really worked with a team, or at least one this big, but on the other side, he wasn't a fan of him being the leader or the fact that he had to work with so many variables. He sighed to himself and looked at the group as they began to introduce themselves. 


First was the Qunari woman, a rare site,  but they are becoming more abundant in the northern nations of Thedas, mostly just Antiva and Rivian. Rivian was always a place you could find a female Qunari, mostly because they used to rule Rivian. Anyway, Theron just watched as she made her introduction short and simple. Lacking in any real intrigue though, but he let it slide. Doubt many actually wanted to be here. 


Secondly there was the mage, it wasn't obvious, but the man tried to hide it or step around from saying what he was. Theron wasn't a fan of mages, mostly just blood mages, but some mages were really snooty. The great part about being an apostate these days was that there weren't many templars around to be bothered to hunt you. The Circle of Magi and Templar Order were still in the middle of rebuilding, and you could always go to the College of Enchanters if you wanted to have a different life as a mage. One with freedom and no templar rule. Theron believed the addition of at least one mage would be for the better though. Theron would make sure to keep an eye on him though, don't want to be turned into an abomination.


The third person to introduce himself was the older human male, who sounded grumpy, almost as if it was past his bedtime or his bones needed some lubing up so they would hurt less. Theron chuckled to himself at the introduction of the Ex-Templar. An Ex-Templar and an apostate in the same room, on the same team. What were the chances of that ever happening? Probably pretty common seeing as the two factions don't hate each other as much anymore. 


"So, let me get this straight. We have a female Qunari warrior who has probably seen some stuff. An Ex-Templar who is extremely grumpy to be here. A mage trying to hide the fact that he is one?" Theron paused, and looked at the mage, "Oh. Apologies. I get lost in my train of thought. Anyway. Two Elves that haven't spoken yet. Maybe they don't like talking... Or they're shy? Or..." He faked a gasp, "What if they are agents of Fen'Heral." Theron shrugged to himself before doing a spot on impression of Leliana, he was extremely good at impression, "No you fool. You think I would have you work with our enemy!"


(Jesus Theron is weirdo. My weirdo :^) )

 

[The Silent Z]

'How the hell did this all come to be? I was coming to rather enjoy the peace and plenty of those wilds' Zathras pondered as he sat quietly in his chair, a glass of wine in hand and swirling inside the clear container. While his staff leaned against the back of his chair opposite his glass hand, casually listening to one introduce themself after another. ' A curious bunch that spymaster gathers....' He continued on within his mind and took a sip from his glass of wine. How the woman found him was still a mystery to him, rumors flowing about and circulating by those townsfolk and villagers nearest the wilds he claimed as his own since his unfortunate exile, perhaps they thought him a spawn of Asha' Bellanar? Some witch or warlock roaming about in shrouded movement and quiet motion throughout the wilds as odd things occurred and brought life to trees and changed the behavior of the creepy enough wilds. Hmm...... no that seemed rather much. 


The expression upon his face became rather bored and lazy as he sat there, resting back in his chair with a leg over the other and wine swirling between his fingertips between sips. 'Hmph..... I hope the place livens up a bit. I could have stayed in the wilds for this much quiet..." Zathras thought taking mental notes of the scene and wondering of this groups personas upon first impressions. He looked around at each face present, giving a thoughtful but tired expression as he did. The elven mage was still wondering about a few things, one being of how the spymaster came to hear about him and track him then the other of which was more present and recent..... the elf, humans and qunari before and around him within here walls.  


"I suppose I shall speak now? Hmm...... the name is Zathras Arlen, should you find yourself curious of it." The man spoke while sitting back in his chair and swirling his wine, as he looked to his staff and traced the wooden construct with his fingers lightly before turning his eyes back toward the room and the man known as Theron. He was slightly amused by his comments and observations and perked a smile before speaking again. "Yes, what if we are? Quite the spies we are....." He chuckled softly then drank from his wine glass giving a pass over the room to read reactions if any at all existed amongst them. "I'm no Templar.... obviously enough. Ears and staff tend to give me away don't they? I'm no blade wielding sort either, but I'm a mage. Elven and Dalish both. Hopefully that won't pose a problem for you folk here." The elf barely smiled before returning the glass to his lips and sipping it once more. "Maybe I could pass off the staff as a walking stick....hmm?" He quietly mused in backtrack and thought.

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya


Katriel wasn't too interested in paying any attention to her temporary associates, a Qunari woman was hardly astounding; they seemed to be - whilst rare - not too hard to come across in Antiva, she didn't care for the race, provided the large woman was able to kill things, use common-sense and keep her distance, they'd get on... barely well enough. Unfortunately it was less clear cut with the others, she wasn't a fan of humans. Less so, Templars. Apparently the one in this room was better off entering retirement, he'd be nothing but a burden given his current habit of complaining more than a child, even if with subtlety. It took everything in Katriel's power to keep her scowl from deepening further. Of course there was the other mage; lucky her, now they had twice the chance of demonic possession. Although lucky was perhaps the correct word. At least, he was useful. Spirit Healers were the only mages worth a lick of salt as far as she was concerned, whether or not he would be insufferable company-wise was too early to say, she guessed yes.


Despite how much she wanted to slap her hands on her face in exasperation, she decided to stay somewhat ambivalent to the rather embarrassing display that unravelled before her. As if the introductions couldn't be anymore disastrous... she had heard much about the Inquisition, it didn't speak well of their credit when their agents were Jesters, if she wanted a fool she could find a better one at the local tavern; though something told her she was about as likely to find the man before her there, as any other - foolish as he was. The only thing able to tear her narrowed, disapproving gaze from the Inquisitions' clown was the obnoxious voice of the "Dalish" elf. The other mage.  Of course he had to mention that he was dalish, wearing his origin like a mark of importance, as if it made him special in anyway. Like all Dalish she suspected his arrogance rivalled that of  the best Tevinter Magisters; she held a strong dislike for his kind, a Keeper without a clan? Must be the runt of the litter.


"If I was an Agent of Fen'Heral, I'd have put a dagger through your throat by now, but there's still time. So If you could spend less time being a fool, and more time getting to the point, I just might reconsider." Katriel spoke - her accent a unique blend of both Fereldan and Antivan - an aura of menace was conveyed clearly in her tone, poison dripping from each and every word. Her attitude was one akin to pure hate, such strong emotion towards a relative stranger is unfathomable to most but this elf proved it possible. She had little intention of dancing this dance, she was here for a job. Nothing more, and even the incredibly large prize was getting duller by the moment, she wasn't certain it was worth this torture, if his lips moved anymore she might just join Fen'Heral out of spite.


With her introduction essentially complete, the elven rogue pulled back into herself - as if on whim an invisible barrier now wrapped itself around her - arms folded, eyes averted, legs together and her lips purse. Her upper-face was still guarded by the hood. The outfit she wore was one distinctive as the sky was blue, who else but a rogue would wear what appeared to be winter attire in a blazing city? There was but one answer, that answer was someone who wished to remain covered. The goal wasn't anonymity as much as security, if she wanted to blend in she'd wear a disguise; truthfully she stood out like a dwarf smith in a Circle Tower, but she was hidden all the same. 

 

[ARSENIC]

"Rest assured, if I wanted to hide anything I'd either be out that door already, have fried every nerve in your brain to a crisp, or both. I don't particularly like planning too far ahead - I'm much more of a 'take things as they come' kind of guy." he said, his tone somber and relaxed. He was confident he had said enough that anyone with two brain cells to rub against each other could tell what he was, so the idea that someone could think he was hiding it irritated him at the very least. "I'm just not the fondest of the title because of how it tends to associate me to the 'College of Mouth-breathers' with their glorified bathrobes and walking sticks." He quipped as he finished, returning to himself, lazed back in his chair as he watched the world go round. Dezrith was clearly not fond of the Circle, any more than he was fond of the magisters of Tevinter, because he knew precisely how alike they were, prancing around in their ridiculous get-ups, convinced that men wearing skirts and waving around slightly modified broomsticks somehow improved their ability to wield the fade. He himself, of course, was wearing a simple, black tunic with long enough sleeves to cover his arms entirely, with an earth-brown leather vest over it, and an equally mundane pair of trousers - more fitting on a merchant or a smith than a wielder of world-shattering powers.


Most of the banter that continued was easy enough for Dez to simply zone out, content to play with his own thoughts until introductions were concluded and Theron decided to finally get to the point. The heavily overdressed elf's response, though, definitely elicited a chuckle and a smirk, as Dez tilted his gaze in Katriel's direction, addressing Theron. "Well, would you look at that. Barely a minute in and you've already made a second friend!" he said, his voice absolutely dripping with evident sarcasm at the fact that Theron had just received two death threats within a minute of each other. "I feel all warm and fuzzy inside already - though that may just be a result of my proximity to furball, over here." He playfully quipped, the nickname a combination of the fact that she had yet to offer her real name, and that it amused him.

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City
​

"I have no quarrel with Mages, so rest easy. Any who, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Zathras." Theron offered a courteous nod at the polite Elf mage, chuckling at his joke about the walking stick. It was perhaps a bit too large to really be considered a walking stick, at least in Theron's opinion. The peasants and nobles alike would probably believe that it was a walking stick though.


Theron just looked at Katriel, and squinted at her as she made her comment, well threat really. He let out a sigh and then shook his head, "My dear girl, is that a threat?! I counter your threat with my own. I'll have Zevran get in your pants if you say such nonsense again." Theron chuckled to himself, Zevran just looked at Katriel and offered a sly grin. "Though I don't feel like dying... or having an Agent of Fen'Heral messing with my head either... Or sending Zevran off to his death... Oh who am I kidding, seeing Zevran die like that would be pretty funny." Theron muttered to himself.


"Ohhh, lovely! A mage with a god-complex. Well I'll be damned. Let me just prop you up on a couch, and worship you for fear of you melting my brain." Theron playfully scoffed at Dez before chuckling at his witty responses, "You I like. Your wittiness will either get you killed on this adventure or it will kill all of us. Maybe one or two will survive. Bets are on the Elf Mage and Ex-Templar making it out alive."


Theron looked over at Katriel as Dezrith addressed him, "Me? Friends? Noooo, impoooosible! I do not simple have friends! I have associates! And the occasional best friend, but friends? And multiple ones? No. What kind of alcohol are you drinking." He paused and looked at Dezrith, "Careful there, Furball may kill you before me now."

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

Introductions took a rather unexpected turn as exchanges became peculiar and belligerent. Threats were thrown, smart quips made and strange interpersonal dialogue said aloud. All the while, the qunari could only feel the corners of her lips pull further up on her face. The sight was rather amusing and something far from foreign to her. The last time she had worked with a band of mercenaries, someone had broken another's nose only hours after they gathered. Given that it happened due to a qunari elbowing a dwarf in the face, the whole incident was marked off as an accident. With things coming along how they were now, this group didn't seem far from doing the same - with the exception that all harm (if any) may come intentionally.


Try as she might (not that she tried hard) Nezlazli could not help the deep, hearty sound of laughter which rippled through. She stood, shoulders shaking as she hunched forward, guffaws dying into low chuckles as she held herself with folded arms. "You guys sure are a strange bunch," she sniggered, as though her sudden burst of laughter was no where far from norm. The warm ambers in her eyes shone as a finger wiped away the tiniest drop formed in the corner. "And you know what they say about strange people? They always make for the deadliest group."


There was a wicked smile on her face - one which reached her eyes in full verisimilitude but in a way which was nowhere pleasant. Keeping facetious cadence, she went on, "Of course, I'm sure some of us here has no plans to play friends," She waved a hand in Katriel's general direction, "And that's all fine with me. Can we move the discussion on with what we're tasked to do exactly?" She asked, trying to return the conversation back to the mission at hand. Introductions were mere formalities after all. Battles are where real discernment began to take place.

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]


Artur had eyed the entire proceeding with his own bland of 'not-giving-a-fuck'. Then he looked over at the woman, whom had laughed at what was happening, he had to admit - it was honestly and truetold funny - on how quickly everything devolved into such slander and threats being thrown around. Well this was Antiva after all. Plus, the only thing missing here was somebody slapping somebody, and calling either one a racial slur - before he was certain that the fists would start flying. And he was wagering - he'd be one of the people to get clocked first - for some unknown reason.


"I second her idea. A few more minutes, and somebody is likely to slap somebody else - because they reminded them of their great uncle' second cousin or something like that," replied Arthur, yawning at the sight. He then looked over at the qunari woman, before nudging her in the elbow to get her attention.


"You think this is madness. You should have seen the time, we had to deal with three female mages on their period, a mabari and a sloth demon. In addition to having  naked templar in the room as well," he spoke, chuckling at that memory.

 

[ARSENIC]

"Where I come from, that's what we call a thursday night." came Dezrith's casual, fully relaxed response to Artur's little quip. "Sometimes they bring in a paddle, a pair of strap-ons and at least twelve pounds of butter, but that's usually only in the winter months, so you should be fine." he nodded reassuringly, his humor completely and utterly dead-panned, before casually turning his gaze back to Theron, twiddling his thumbs with an idle impatience and an expectant glare, as if to wordlessly note that he, too, wanted the man to just bloody well get on with it and tell them what they were doing.

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya


With a deep sigh, Katriel finished her glaring, which had rooted to Dez originally, before traversing to first Theron, and then Zevran; the disgust portrayed on her face was evident even through the hood, this group was the perfect outfit for a band of useless, raunchy mercenaries. Exactly what she didn't want to be apart of; their - yet what was she expecting, from Inquisition-chosen misfits? - Admittedly, not much, yet even this lowered the bar that she had originally held. She hardly felt like humouring the cocky mage or foolish man. Their words were of little concern to her, the vicious gaze that fell upon each would have to do for now - but otherwise, she remained silent and withdrawn. Moving only to adjust the hood deeper down her face, it's coverage not hiding the plain annoyance evident on her lips. She paid no mind to the Qunari's gesture - even if she was at least thankful one person on this trip had half a working brain. The only thing she had in common with the assembled group was their shared desire to understand the mission; her irritance spoke volumes, when the prospect of knifing him became more and more likely, consequences be damned.

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City
​

Theron looked at Kutena who had asked for them to pretty much stop fooling around and get to the task at hand, "Ah, apologies. Yes. Well, my job originally was to bring you all together, give you a mission and then leave, but apparently Leliana has more in store for me to be doing." Theron sighed, being the type to lead others around just wasn't his sort of thing, that he wasn't a fan of large group adventures and missions, "Anyway. Our mission is to stop the Agents of Fen'Heral here in Antiva. We believe that they are plotting something here in Antiva, namely assassination. Supposedly there is a new advisor to the Royal Family. An Elven Mage... What was his name, Josephine?"


"Her, her name, Theron. And it is Lanalva. Lady Lanalva, she used to be a Keeper of a Dalish Clan before it was destroyed quite a while ago. Recently she came to Antiva City and offered her services to the Royal Family, seeing as they had no Court Enchanter." Josephine commented, looking up at the group as she informed them. 


"Yes, her. We're to confirm she is an Agent and discover what her plans are. If they are assassination, the Crows are likely involved. Our main goal though is to gain Antiva's allegiance for the upcoming ware with Fen'Heral. Blah Blah Blah." Theron said, giving everyone the mission that they were about to go on.


Theron just looked at the others as they continued to chatter and joke about, he remained quiet though. He looked at Katriel and saw the disgust on her face and just chuckled to himself. She seemed like she would be the one that hated this whole thing and especially the people within the group. Oh well, her lose if she was going to be a arrogant cynic.

 

[The Silent Z]

Observing the fellow elf left Zathras sighed seeing just how pleasant her company was going to be on this journey. Oh well, it was likely one or more would exist in the group that would be more unpleasant and poisonous of ways..... now the discovery of who became rather obvious as the time went on. Turning toward Theron as he addressed his own remarks from before and regarding his own introduction, Zathras gave a nod and momentary raised glass before downing what was left and speaking in reply. "Quite the rest assured then. Would be rather overly done, if mages posed a issue for those they worked alongside. But alas a pleasure mister Theron to have made acquaintances." Zathras responded with a pleased expression seeing atleast one enjoyed his humorous thought about his staff and walking stick idea.  The more he observed the group it became more evident of just how it would come to be unless the unlikely happened of course. A band of gathered kinds at the work of the spymaster herself and under the leadership of this Theron, would prove a rocky and likely rivaled existence with one another if fights on top of that didn't add in to the fun. The human mage and his superior complex, a fellow elf who's arrogance and glares could bring a dagger warning to ones back alone while surprisingly the Templar and Qunari seemed the most level headed and straightforward amongst the group Theron had under his watch. A surprising and most interesting turn of events..... Zathras wouldn't have betted on that one and won if going with stereotypes and first gaze upon them when entering the room. Though getting to the point and cutting out the in between round abouts was rather common of Qunari wasn't it? Hmm.... 


The tales of humorous sort and circle of magi related in addition to Theron's own threats of Zevran to the elven lass proved amusing to Zathras as quietly observed and listened. While learning of their purpose and cause for bringing together such a group of diversity and many backgrounds, personas and unlikely prospects of getting through without killing one another was curious and important enough to the elven mage, he did rather enjoy the amusement and entertaining quality for the time being atleast. It had after all livened things up for his tastes. Meanwhile listening to Theron explain and get on with the details of their mission, it was becoming rather unfortunate and seemingly a ironic fate that he should have realized sooner after learning about this royal enchanter advisor that may be a Fen'Harel agent to boot. Zathras frowned then followed with a sighed exhale. "Oh how lovely, a fellow Dalish and keeper topping it. Hmm..... Sounds rather touching to get the opportunity to share a reunion of clan folk." He spoke feigning a smile while his mind racked its memory banks to see if he could recall the name and place a face to it. "Anyhow it's well enough I suppose. Shouldn't be surprised after all about this elven mage and former keeper among the Dalish clans. Still disappointing however....." He added before returning to silence and now nodding to the situation and thinking of mission. 

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

Whatever good humor brought out by the aged knight was easily soured by the spirit mage. Nonetheless their comments fished out a chuckle and a gleam of interest, albeit Nezlazli kept from diverting the conversation from the main topic at hand. "I expected no less from a Tevinter," Nezlazli mused, assuming such from Dez based on his accent. The grin turned hard, almost fading when Theron explained what they were to do. The plan sounded simple enough but what the Qunari couldn't get was the number of people involved in the so-called "mission".


Six people to gather intrigue on a Dalish keeper? It would have been far more efficient to hire a Crow to do the snooping instead. Either the Inquisition started looking down on mercenaries like herself or something bigger was in store for them, still yet to be revealed. Whatever it was, Nezlazli was ready. The sooner they hit off, the sooner she could do some ass-kicking - preferably Fen'Heral's ass for causing (indirectly) the whole shit storm at the concave. She had lost dear friends in the mess which followed afterwards.


"Alright, so how exactly do you propose to sneak in two mages, an angry elf and a qunari onto palace grounds? I'm sure you and Arthur will have no trouble blending in, but..." she said, a look of brief revelation appearing on her face. Turning to Josephine, a rougish grin snarked onto her features. "Unless you've planned something big. Something where large amounts of people could enter palace courts without trouble. Something, like a party?" she both assumed and suggested. Her arms crossed before her with a hand prodding her chin. Nezlazli rambled on, more to herself than to others. "I love Antivan parties. Someone's always getting poisoned."

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]


Arthur groaned, when his attempt to make a joke was messed by the damn Tevinter. Well - there would be fun in that regard, as Tevinter and Templar would mix very well; like demons and mabari. He gently laughed at her idea, of him being able to blend in. "Oh, that is rich. I would stick out like a sore thumb. Antiva is so full of bullshit, that the bullshit needs to contain bullshit here. The more weirder bunch would fit in better - two mages, an elf and a qunari walk to a party. That would end with the nobles, jumping on eachother instead of you guys - since they would all expect, either of them to have hired you guys."


"Poisoned? That is it? Well, then its already a whole leg and head above an Orleasian one. There you have to deal with assassins, mercs with crossbows and your ability to speak - in a triple-speak. That your truth masked as bullshit must sound truthful bullshit. Oh, at that is before having the possibility of being verbally assassinated - and your entire family history erased, since you ate a potato with the sweet carrot fork," he humored. Then heard though about an invitation the to party scene.


"We should dress you in a yellow gown and then have you go inside. I bet that would end with one noble getting shanked on the spot," said Arthur to Kutena. "What do you think of that idea Cute-Na."


@Aster

 

[marorda]

[COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)]Lanassa Marenaya[/COLOR]


What in the world had even taken her to Antiva? A mission of sorts? A drunk night ending on a ship to unknown places? Lanassa simply knew she was in Antiva's Capital now. Bustling as always, a busy busy place. Many people around, and many people who would kill you if you looked at them the wrong way. Ah, you gotta love the land of assassins, no? She had quite some interesting experiences here herself, even with her relatively young age. And now... now she was... Where? Yes yes, in the capital, but where? The elf slowly rubbed her head and tried to gather her memories of the day before, to no avail. Well... little. There was a vague trace of a memory somewhere. A bar, a nobleman, a brawl... shining metal, clinging of coins... And her ending up.... right... here... in this... prison cell. Gods be damned. Lana crossed her arms and legs as she sat on the floor and huffed. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping some meditating would clear her mind just about enough to get her butt out of this cell. Especially since.... CRAP. What time was it? Judging by the light seeping in, it was daytime. Noon. On THE day. That big day. The one she really, really couldn't miss.


A few days prior, after Lanassa had already gotten into Antiva, she was approached by someone. And not just anybody, hell no! The redheaded bard to approach her was none less than Leliana herself. A person Lana saw as an idol. The bard was skilled, and their stories were in some points similar. That particular day, Lana had been recruited to join a mission on the Inquisition's behalf. How? Why her? What? There had been many questions on her mind, but back then Leliana had assured her those questions would answer themselves in time. If, that is, she would join the mission. Today. Thank the Gods Lanassa had already warned Leliana she might run a little late. For she was still on a mission herself. One that she had to finish first lest she'd get quite a bunch of people on her ass wanting her dead. And well... Lanassa wasn't fond of dying. She had had a close call a few times too often and there really had to come a day where her luck would run out. If that day wouldn't be soon, she would be happy. But... well... considering her reputation, that day might be just about any day really. Lanassa really hoped Leliana had informed Josephine. It would make her, Lana, look rather bad if she hadn't. Being late on the day you meet up with your allies to be. Heck... who would those allies be? Lana was, as always, curious.


A big mission, new allies, working with a big organization that would hopefully keep her safe from those who would want her head on a silver platter, or a wooden shield on the wall, was very appealing. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If... if only she would get her butt out of this jailcell first. Lana ran her hands through her short hair before leaping up and casually strolling to the cell, leaning against the bars, arms loosely hanging out.


"Sooo.... big guy," she told the guard. "Any idea when I'm getting out of 'ere? I've places to go, ya see?"


"Sorry missy. The research is still in progress," the guard didn't even look at her. Just doing his... guarding job. DULL!


Lana dramatically sighed and shook her head. "I... see. I understand." She scratched her head. "May I ask... I've got a blanket in my backpack over there. Would you be so kind to give it to me? I assume your superiors would want to question me regarding the.... events that have apparently occurred. I would be of no use when I'm too sick to speak, now would I?"


The guard let out a small sigh as he bend over to pick the blanket from the backpack. Now she had to be quick, or she wouldn't just get a chance like this again. She fished the keys to her cell off the man's belt. The moment he rose again, she knocked him on a pressure point on the shoulder, knocking him out cold.


"I'm sorry sir," she apologized as she opened the door. "As I said, I have places to go. I hope your headache won't be too bad when you get up again."


Lana slung the bag over her shoulder and made her way out of the dungeon.


She rapidly dashed down the streets, avoiding to run into too many people, and for now ignoring the angry shouts of people calling racial slurs to her, or flat out assuming she was a servant on the run. She did, however, make a mental note not to forget the faces of those who just crossed her personal line. They were sooooo going to regret it. Someday. If she'd survive. The tavern was just a bit ahead of her. Almost there. Not too late yet, as far as she could tell. Lanassa caught her breath before opening the door and strolling into the tavern as if she wasn't much too late. Her gaze quickly shot around the room. A Qunari woman, warrior by the looks, a templar, two mages, two rogues... Josephine. All together an interesting company. This would prove to be interesting. Especially considering the few comments she had picked up upon entering.


"I hope my.... slightly belated arrival was announced beforehand?" she asked before sitting down at the first the best table she came across.  "The name's Lanassa. Not to be confused with the new royal advisor. Although it's only two letters off..."

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City
​

"Perhaps you would be able to get closer to her than any of the others, Ser Zathras." Josephine proposed to Zathras, seeing as he was a Dalish Elf, and a mage, just like Lanalva, "She is supposedly very reclusive and not fond of talking to anyone other than the Crown. She has a mean stare." Josephine added. She attempted to greet Lanalva on her first day at the palace, but was brushed off and not even looked at. The audacity of that woman!


Theron grinned as Kutena assumed what was the plan and looked over at Josephine, "Why yes, Lady Kutena... You are all going to a party. Well a ball technically. The Crown is throwing a party tomorrow for the youngest son turning of age. That is really the only way I can get you all in. If I took you all in dressed as you are... Well it could end in a political disaster! They might think it could be a hostile takeover."


"Either you Qunari are mind readers or you guys are great at making ideas." Theron said, the grin still on his face, "Yes, I do hope you all like parties that involve politics and the occasional death or scandal." He paused to look over at the old Templar cracking jokes now, "Well then, best be sure you've brushed up on what forks to use and not use." 


"If you two are done flirting..." Theron just sighed and rolled his eyes, "We've arranged for a Tavern to host us as a home of operations, it is called the 'Drunk Bronto'. The owners of it are some allies that will be helping us with our mission here in Antiva. Anyway, you all should get some better clothes, don't want to come off as-" Theron was cut off by a latecomer, a young looking Elf woman? Man? Eh, Theron himself wasn't sure of what gender it was. The Elf looked rather young too, by the time she gave away her name, Theron knew what gender she was, "Missy aren't you a tad young to be here...?" 


"This here is Lanassa, as she informed just now. She is to be joining you all. I hear she is quite the archer, Theron." Josephine informed the group, and corrected Theron.


"Oh. I see. Anyway, as I was saying. We can't have you all looking like Peasants and Beggars. If you don't have any formal wear, Josephine here will get you some." Theron paused and grinned at everyone, "I do hope you enjoy parties."

 

[ARSENIC]

Was that... was that it? That was the plan? Seriously? If their fearless leader hadn't planned any further than that, this was going to be a very short campaign. Particularly with the fact that he had to pick mercs for the job. Of course, speaking up would affirm his Tevinter heritage, but at this point Dez realized that the only other real option as falling flat on his face with a bad plan.


"So we're supposed to do what, sit around a table with her and share tea and crumpets while looking all fancy? Are we bringing down a terrorist or just playing Dollhouse?" he scowled, lifting himself up from his seat to a full stand, his voice suddenly changing from his macabre, sarcastic resting-bitch-face to a booming, take-charge firmness. "Here's the plan. Kutena, Arthur, Zathras and I will go to this ridiculous party. Josephine - we're going to need fabricated titles. Arthur and I can simply take up noble titles - his from Orlais, and mine from the Anderfels." he said. Tevinter and Antiva have never had a good reputation with one another, and Dez couldn't exactly pick up the accent of a southerner, so the Anderfels were the best bet, and Arthur oozed of Orlais so that seemed more than believable. "Zathras can take up the role of some far-off court enchanter, and Kutena perhaps the widow of a nobleman with a flair for the exotic - she definitely has the looks to make it believable. I know, I know, she seems a little young to be playing the widow, but if we place her in Ferelden we could say her husband was killed by the Blight only shortly after they were wed. Everyone should be fully briefed on the skin they'll be wearing, Josephine, so as not to break disguise." he continued, as much talking as he was thinking aloud. "Zath, you will engage with the target directly. Create some sense of common ground. Make her like you - seduce her if you can. Kutena, Arthur and I will engage with the nobles and turn them out of her favor. All nobles are selfish, petty and jealous, so they will already show great displeasure for how much of the crown's attention Lanalva has, so we just have to light the spark and the resulting inferno will take care of itself." Dezrith's eyes tilted over to Theron. "Simultaneously, you, furball and the kid will do a little break-and-enter. Your particular brand of skills should make it easy enough for the two of you, and I'm sure twinkletoes here is small enough that she can wiggle into spaces your pudgy fingers won't reach. Find everything you can about her, and then trash the place. Make it look like a racially motivated hate crime - she will undoubtedly connect it to the uproar we will instigate and assume that her disguise is wearing off. In her desperation, she will latch on to her only remaining point of contact, and under the guise of needing comfort, will pull Zathras into her little cult. Zathras will accept, and we get our inside man. Then we drain her of everything she knows, and end her." Dez finished, eyes up as he looked across the room. He was probably going to be more than a little judged for being twisted enough to come up with this, but hey, it was a good plan. "Any questions?"

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City
​

"Well, sure, why not? Well, something besides crumpets maybe crackers instead.. Antivan crumpets aren't really that good. Rather stale and made with the weirdest milk I have ever tasted. The tea hear is pretty good though." Theron said, looking around at the others, just shrugging at them if they decided to judge him on his rant about crumpets.


Theron listened to Dez's plan, giving him the benefit of the doubt. The plan itself was a good one, if not a tad complex and overbearing. It had holes in it, and it didn't seem to account for the fact that things could change on the fly. Oh and there was the fact that Dez had just assumed the role of leader and what not. Theron just let out a sigh and crossed his arms, "Last I check no one put you in charge. Not to boot that you are assuming that Lanalva is an Agent of Fen'Heral. We have no idea if she truly is. She could be a terrorist or she couldn't be. The plan, while decent, doesn't account for variables and you assume it will go smoothly. Just like that. This is the Royal Court of Antiva. You send the Kid to do some breaking and entering, and she'll have the blade of a Crow in her back."


"Oh and not to mention that if she say isn't a terrorist, we would be destroying the life of an innocent woman. You turn what could be a potential ally into a bitter enemy. You're plan will fail. So, no there aren't any questions and we will not be using you plan. Don't like it, you can leave, without pay." Theron said, in a rather stern and serious manner, he didn't let his voice get loud or give anyone looks or insults. He was just honest with the mage and in a matter of speaking, asserted his dominance. He didn't mind the others having plans and sharing them, what he did mind was some reckless mage attempted to kill anyone in a rather unconvincing plan. 


"Josephine and the nobles here will be sure to keep the rest of the nobles from hating or fearing us while at the Ball. Remember, most of the Nobles don't particularly like us. Zevran will be doing the sneaking around and gathering anything from her personal quarters, but wont tamper or destroy anything. He will simply find out who she works for, and why she is here. The rest of us will simply mingle, once Zevran has the information, we talk with Lanalva. If she does work for Fen'Heral, we will arrest her. Zathras, you can speak with Lanalva though. Butter her up and try to learn as much as you can, as Dezrith said. If she takes a liking to you she should be easier to convince to join us." Theron gave everyone the plan that he was simply told from Leliana and Josephine. 

 

[ARSENIC]

"The point of a plan..." Dez responded, clearly not as riled up about this as Theron was - and taking a silent mental note about the man's poor reaction to instigation. He remained standing, speaking calmly but firmly. "is to organize action. There is nothing organized about simply throwing a squad who barely knows each other to loosely gather intel from a ballroom. A plan needs to have a course of action, and it is implied that if during any point in that course we find that she isn't who we're looking for, we abort. If you snoop around and find evidence to confirm that she isn't an agent, we abort the plan. If Zath affirms that she is an opponent of Fen'Hardel, we abort the plan. The plan only continues if there is proof, obviously. If there was no need to be subtle and exacting, you would have just hired a crow to do a crow's job. So if you want to be a leader, don't wave your manhood around about authority and then give an incomplete plan with just one step. Every plan needs to be adaptable to the course of events, but that doesn't mean you don't create a plan to begin with. So long as you don't answer the question of 'then what' to everything you say, we don't have a plan. So answer the question. You want us to get paid for playing dollhouse. For a minute, for an hour, for a day. Great. Then what?"

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya


No matter how many times she ran the words through her head, they ceased to change. She'd hoped it was a demon mind-trick; unfortunately her hopes were false, she heard their objective clear as day. A ball. The mere prospect paled the rogues face, as countless doubts came to mind in a very short space of time. She had been in Antiva for years and had made it a very specific point to avoid playing "The Game" - her targets never rose above the minor nobility, crown business? That wasn't for her, for all her skill and arrogance, even she feared the Crows; after all what was a single thief against an organization of assassins?


So why was that the least worrying part? Quite simply, because their orders were to socialize. Katriel was no bard, she didn't use guile and charm, her skills were simple; breaking and entering, stealing and disappearing, had that been the mission her mind would rest easier, since what would she have to fear from the Crows, with the Inquisition at her back? Alas, her life seemed to be an endless trial... A ball... How would she deign to survive that ordeal - With no social tact, indecent manners, a complete lack of etiquette and an overpowering urge to gut any dirty noble within 10 feet of her - the chances of her compromising the mission suddenly seemed quite high - which begged the question, if this was the mission, why had she been recruited at all? Katriel was no scholar but even she knew there must be something more to this mission; something their foolish leader apparently thought wasn't worth sharing.


She wasn't particularly confrontational, more poisonous really, but her thoughts of questioning this Theron were interrupted by the late arrival of another elf, rogue at that, though she looked rather young to be joining a mercenary band. She wrote it off as nothing more than a "look", to be honest she didn't particularly care one way or another. They weren't going to be friends. Though apparently, the new arrival wasn't the only curious new development, that idiot mage - what was his name? Dezrineth? - wasn't exactly taken by the plan set forward by Theron. Under normal circumstances, she'd prefer his plan, but considering the mage oozed "I'm an ass" syndrome, and was clearly not nearly as smart as he thought, she decided to simply enjoy watching this flick of drama unfold. She hated the Inquisition Agent no less, clearly. Yet watching him shut Dezrineth down was amusing to say the least.


Truthfully, the plan started off well. Then it stopped making sense as soon as it started - what kind of idiot makes a step-by-step plan which assumes the target is going to do exactly what they predict? It was impossible, the only living thing with such knowledge was perhaps Fen'Heral; and that was only if the stories she'd heard were true. Regardless though, the nickname "Furball" just didn't cut it for the elf. If the mage wanted to keep his intestines, he'd need to adjust his speech accordingly and given the nature of the Inquisition, chances are Josephine, Zevran and Theron already had her real name.


"It's Katriel, freak." The rogue spat in the healer's direction, not particularly caring for his wise-ass speech about the nature of a plan. The root of her insult being the oddly coloured, shimmering eye. Something she'd only just noticed whilst watching the verbal "Mine is bigger" sparring between the duo.