arcaneadvisor | ooc: inbox/plot with me

Lady Morrigan,

We have not been introduced. My name is Marisol Vivas, recently come to the Inquisition from Antiva. I was hoping we might discuss a project I am working on to better the Inquisition's relationship with Antiva, and certain skills of yours which I have heard rumour of. Would a meeting be agreeable?

Faithfully,

Lady M. Vivas

Marisol,

If there is a place other than the Gallows that we might meet in then I can make myself available; you can imagine I am in no hurry to find myself told I am unable to leave. If not...well, depending on what you have heard I am shall be able to leave if I can trust your discretion.

Morrigan

Morrigan,

I thank you for the prompt reply. I was fortunate enough to be absent from the Gallows at the time the quarantine was declared. You are welcome to visit my estate in Hightown, if that would be agreeable?

Marisol

[Morrigan arrives fast as she ever does which is to say as the crow flies because it's the only way she goes to and from Sundermount when travelling alone.

At least Hightown is used to her presence, all the long months of her visits to the Vauequelin estate; she doesn't look as if she belongs but she's good at not showing if she's uncomfortable.]

What was it you wished to discuss that you might call upon me?

Thank you for your haste in attending.

( Unexpected, a little; she was not sure that the request of a noble would be of much interest to one so whispered about as Morrigan. )

I wished to discuss the current situation in Nevarra. I am putting together a diplomatic effort, but I think... care is necessary. Precautions, if you like. I had heard that you might be the person to talk to.

( She gestures towards the doorway, a servant in attendance. ) Mulled wine?

[So long at the side of the Empress and now with the Inquisition? Tut tut Marisol, don't you know who her dearest terrible young lady is in these parts?]

If you have heard anything of me you will have heard the tales that followed in my wake in Orlais; the one who bewitched Celene's mind? The scandal in her court, well, not the greatest scandal to come out of it these days but at the time. Though my magic has served the purpose she required as it has the Inquisition.

[At the offer, she inclines her head, settles herself more. So out of place here but where does she fit. (Where do any of them?)]

( Marisol laughs softly. ) If you could betwitch the entire Nevarran court, that would be very convenient.

( Her manner is easy and relaxed; she certainly does not seem fussed or concerned as she pours then both some wine. )

I have heard your called a woman of the Wilds, with rare and devious magics.

( There is a smile at the corners of her mouth, as she holds out a glass of wine to Morrigan - warm, richly spiced. ) Is it presumptuous to ask if you are able to take the forms of animals?

Nevarrans do not turn with the season as they do in Orlais, subject to the whim of fashion. A far greater challenge though there is the old king, their old dragon hunting days of glory, their honoured dead.

[Same game, different trappings. She swirls the wine in her glass before drinking; Marisol might have come by the tale any number of places, it certainly isn't a secret but to request it? That's another thing entirely.] There are many tales told, I have heard rumour of a witch in the Antivan swamp as so many have heard legends of my own mother, I wonder which you were raised on.

But to answer the question, I can. There are limits to it but 'twas how I came to this estate faster than legs or mount might carry me.

Each nation has its quiddities. ( Antiva, flaw free and perfect as it is, included. Perhaps perfection was its quiddity? A thought for later. ) The honoured dead are a good part of the reason I wish to go. The events of what happened at the Necropolis must be investigated, those responsible found and evidence gathered to clear the Inquisition's name, else we must proceed without Nevarra's support at best, and perhaps facing deliberate sabotage from them.

( All logic and reason, but there is still a spark i her when Morrigan confirms the rumours, a sort of childish delight that is in her eyes moreso than in her smile, pleased as it is. )

All magic has its limits, but that is a fantastic ability. ( So full of possibility. ) I have logical, tactical questions about whether you might be willing to employ those skills to aid our investigation where the Mortalitasi and nobility could prove less than helpful.

( BUT SHE WANTS TO ASK ABOUT TURNING INTO ANIMALS. SO MUCH. )

Tempering some children to weapons for the same cost as steel and iron at market? [Mmm what's good Marisol?] The Inquisition sabotages itself readily and willingly enough, it needs no audio, let alone from those who lie so close to Tevinter's door. I am willing to come and lend my aid.

[Ready to get of Kirkwall for a time too after the current mess unfolding around everyone.]

There are limits to that which I can be, forms that I prefer for going unseen, for combat, for exploring. Ravens are often overlooked I have found, able to fit through most gaps, and what dark terrible place is absent a giant spider.

[Just gonna sit back. Sip her wine. Look dramatic and goth suave about all this.]

( Hot, tbh. There is an appealing sort of allure to Morrigan, which she does not doubt Morrigan is aware of, nor that Morrigan is capable of making use of it. The gothic suave babe factor is noted, and categorised, and duly set aside. )

What magic is without limits? The quality of the mage is in their wits, not their raw power. I am sure we would all of us love to learn more dramatic magic, but what is the good of it without sense?

( She's delighted, basically, but chill. ) You are not wrong. The same can be said of how mages are treated, in most nations, to an extent; we are desirable to some only as tools, and if we cannot be useful, then we can be broken.

( Matter of fact. Sad, but not what she is hoping they will discuss. )

A giant spider is not without its drama, though that tends to come with the fright and squeamishness of others. [And the smell of urine when the giant spider launches itself at others, the last thing certain people have ever had the certain misfortune to ever see in their miserable little lives. Still, this is less judgement than expected from a Circle mage but Morrigan is careful. Coy.

Celene had her reasons for asking after particular talents and knowledge, all to mutual benefit until it had reached an end but this could easily tip either way. The Inquisition never allows for folk to so easily avoid one another should a thing go ill.]

Well if there are those who will go about as sheep in a field, they cannot be surprised when the wolves come as do the butchers. [Myrobalan had much the same speech of her once; the Circles were what they were, too many offered their throats. Perhaps people will one day notice that Morrigan has so seldom called herself a mage at all.]

No. Although some of us would sooner be the wolf.

( Metaphorically or literally. Become a pack to be reckoned with, not a creature of flight. )

Or maybe the dramatic spider.

I confess, I have known this life so long I cannot imagine being unable to live it as something else. To see and hear and smell. However much you might know it, you may still be what you are.

[Marisol can hold her own in conversation though, she has that going for her.]

Do you think you know yourself better, for having been in other skins? Or... does it make the reading of others more insightful?

( To see them as might their hunter, their prey, as something else that slips between skins and is simultaneously themselves and not themselves at all. )

I am still myself when a wolf. I am no bard [a quiet scoff, a woman glad to be mostly rid of them] and that is not where my talents lie but there are things a wolf might hear or smell that I can relay to a person.

[Perhaps if there were mage bards or rogue shapeshifters, but such is life, and Morrigan grew up alone in the Wilds. She reads animals better than many people until later in her life. A deliberate act of Flemeth's. It doesn't do to be bitter about it now in the house of a stranger.]

Of course. ( She sips the wine, thinking on that for a few moments before speaking further. Morrigan does not strike her a woman to suffer fools, and Marisol has no interest in appearing foolish. )

I apologise if any of my questions are nonsensical in some way. This is simply a wondrous form of magic. I can only imagine the things that could be done with it. To be able to view the sea from beneath the waves rather than riding over them, or to have eyes that can watch in the dark. There are so many secrets that could be uncovered.

After sailing to and from Nevarra, and given I made my own way from Skyhold to Kirkwall by land? The freedom it offers is gift enough to those who use it well. Too many see it in parts and pieces. Of those I have taught in my time, some have used it as little more than parlour tricks to entertain friends from what I have heard. As if this is not old magic. Near lost.

[Marisol strikes her as being less of a disappointment in that arena.]

( Cheerfully, )

I could arrange for them to be stabbed, if you like?

( She's joking!

Maybe. )

Tempting as that offer is, there are few enough bodies to fill posts.

[Do you hear the conviction it's there.

Somewhere.]

ooc: inbox/plot with me

letter

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject