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Snippet #2756808

located in Orlais, a part of The Canticle of Fate: Silver Lion Stanza, one of the many universes on RPG.

Orlais

The largest and most powerful nation in Thedas, Orlais sits in the continent's southwest corner. An absolute monarchy, the region is ruled by Emperor Lucien I and Empress Sophia.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lia Tael Character Portrait: Corvin Pavell Character Portrait: Vitorio Sansone
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Sleep did not help Lia feel any less drained.

They'd been out in the Alienage until just past dawn, trying their best to keep the peace, to keep the fires out, and to keep the wounded alive. Vito had proved to be an effective healer in addition to an elementalist, and he'd saved more than a few lives by the time the sun came up. Even that first elf to have attacked Lia survived, though it had been a close call, and the Antivan suspected he would not wake for some time yet, both from his injuries and from whatever mysterious stupor he was trapped in.

It had taken every ounce of Lia's restraint not to kill him, not to turn Parshaara the other way and plunge its blade into him. It would've been so simple, with her arms free as they were, to stab into his unprotected sides, or under the arm. She'd thought burning him would be enough, but whatever affected him clearly pushed all thoughts of pain from his mind. It had to be a drug of some kind. Riris had mentioned something of the sort, overdosed elves that had destroyed property before they'd collapsed.

Others had not been lucky enough to survive, either killed from the drug itself, or put down by those other elves with the tools and the skill necessary to defend themselves. Lia couldn't see the Alienage walls from the window of her room, but she knew the smoke was likely still rising. Not from buildings now, but from bodies at the pyre in the central circle. She didn't envy Riris the work she'd have to do today.

But Lia couldn't just keep sleeping. It was overcast and grey today, making it difficult to tell what the time was, but Lia suspected it was well into the afternoon. She ignored the ache in her muscles and pushed herself out of bed, almost tripping over where she'd shrugged off her gear and clothes on the floor. She dipped a washcloth into a half-filled bucket and cleaned herself, finding new bruises that she owned, and bloodstains she did not.

She felt as though she'd failed, that despite her lack of information going in the day before, she should've been able to prevent this somehow. She should've been able to track down the source, the instigator, and put an end to it before it could begin. The simple truth was that she simply hadn't had enough time. There was new work to do now, however. This drug that had poisoned the minds of elves had to be in part responsible, and it had to have come from Riverbend somewhere. The district was huge, but she'd knock on every door, peer through every window if she had to. She was not going to let something like this happen again.

Dressed and geared up once more, Lia pushed open her door and quietly closed it behind her, trying to rub the weariness from her eyes. Not surprisingly, she found Cor already awake down the hall, probably waiting for her. "Don't suppose you have anything to eat?" She didn't have much of an appetite, but she needed something to at least keep her from keeling over.

He looked almost obnoxiously energized for the little rest they'd had, tossing her a fruit through the air just on the heels of her question. "Went down to the Belle Marché this morning," he said, breaking a wedge off the orange in his other hand. "Tried to see if I could figure anything out about this drug." No doubt it wouldn't be sold in quite so public a location, but the market was a hub of rumors and information. "Nothing we haven't already heard, unfortunately. The riot's what most everyone is talking about."

He popped the wedge in his mouth and chewed, swallowing before he spoke again, pushing off the wall he'd been holding up with his shoulders. "Mostly the elves are being blamed, of course, but there's enough muddling that I don't think there will be any immediate retaliation. Part of that's people kicking blame too high, though." Which wasn't great for other reasons. Still, Lucien and Sophia could withstand a lot more unsubstantiated rumor before anything bad came of it than the Alienage could.

Lia finished the bite of her apple while she thought. None of it was surprising, of course. The more extreme among the humans would be calling for another Purge by now, and then calling Lucien and Sophia all sorts of awful things when they refused to do it. Anyone in Orlais knew that this had been building for some time, starting of course with Lucien's claiming of the throne, but only really being exacerbated the final day of the Grand Tourney, when an elf had won the melee and not faced punishment for it. It gave the elves a hope and a boldness they'd never had before, and it gave the worst of the shemlen all the more reason to hate them.

"We need to follow the trail of this drug, then," Lia concluded. "Maybe one of the ones Vito saved last night is awake by now. They have to be able to point us somewhere." They didn't just find it, after all. Lia had to imagine someone was making a profit off of this, and while cutting off the flow of the drug wouldn't ease every racial tension, it would at least kill the thing that appeared to be pushing it over the edge.

"I do believe I just heard my name." As if speaking of him had summoned him, the Antivan man appeared, flanked by one of the younger Lions, who must have let him into the barracks. He was a bit more obviously put-together than the night before—his draping garments somewhat less threadbare and considerably more metal to be seen: several necklaces, studs in his nose, ears, and eyebrow, and the telltale clink of more than one bracelet. He offered Lia and Cor a half-turned smile, setting his hands on his hips. "And as a matter of fact, I've come with news, though I'm not sure how effectively it will lead to action."

Lia was surprised to see him, frankly. She hadn't used the deftest touch in enlisting his help during the riot, and though he'd said he would keep an ear out for any useful information, she honestly hadn't believed he'd follow through. She wasn't about to look the gift horse in the mouth, though. "What have you got?"

"Two things: firstly, one of my patients reports a couple of encounters with someone who clearly didn't belong in Riverbend, where she works. Said he dressed like one of the residents but didn't fit otherwise. Military posture, for one, and he smelled like flowers, apparently." There were definitely places in the city where one could pick up a scent like that, but none of them were in Riverbend. Still, it was hardly much to go on, and Vito seemed to know this, moving on to the second item with no further prompting.

"More promisingly, I talked to an... acquaintance of mine. He claims that this local padrone named Kotter isn't too happy at the moment. Something about some new product he's been moving. Seems he's calling in his distributor for a meeting about it. Bit of a coincidence if it's about anything other than last night, yes?" He shrugged.

Cor looked a little confused by the use of the Antivan term, but context made it clear enough what was meant. "A drug dealer's upset about product the day after a new one contributes in a big way to a riot—yeah, I'm guessing that's connected." He grimaced, tossing his orange peel into a wastebasket across the room. After the soft thud, he returned his attention to Vito. "You know where this meeting will be?"

Vito hmmed, scratching the beard on his jawline. "Not precisely. Operations like this always have at least a dozen locations that would suffice. But if he's upset and it's at an outsider, I'm willing to bet he doesn't spring for any of the very secret ones. We can try his warehouse on the docks—it's a legitimate-looking front, so probably the supplier would prefer it."

A chance to talk to Kotter seemed like just the break they were looking for. Or if he wasn't the source of this, then maybe whoever he was meeting with was. Either way, if there was a meeting going on, they needed to be in attendance.

"If you can lead us there, that would be much appreciated. We'll handle the rest." If just anyone had brought her this information, Lia wouldn't have been willing to trust it, but Vito had worked with them already to stop the riot and save lives. She was willing to trust that if nothing else, he was on their side of this issue.

"If you prefer." Vito seemed almost amused by something, but he didn't go to the trouble of specifying what, and shrugged instead, turning to lead them out of the barracks.

The outside air was cool, chilly enough to help Lia wake up to full alertness. The idea of an imminent mission and possibly a fight had a way of doing that too. She didn't imagine either party of this meeting would come alone or unprepared. While they needed to take someone alive, someone with knowledge that could help them, the rest Lia had to see as fair game. Criminals that chose their path, or monsters that wanted this drug spread. Either way, the type of people that would know full well the risks of fighting Argent Lions.

They had a bit of a walk to the warehouses, despite already being in the right district. Harbor District was huge, considering that this was the most major hub of naval trade in the south. The mood in the city was tense, it was easy to feel in the air. All the people they passed moved quickly, efficiently going about their business. It was much quieter than usual now. Everyone knew there was potential for last night's events to repeat themselves sooner rather than later.

"There wasn't any trouble at your shop while you were gone, right?" she asked, keeping pace with Vito.

"No, thankfully." He smiled a little. "I do tend to worry about her, but Marisol was right—no one was particularly interested in what little we had left. It will need some work, but that is to be expected, I think." Vito was oddly watchful for a shopkeeper, she could tell from this close; he scanned his surroundings fairly often, but never lingered on anything in particular for long.

Cor, walking about two paces behind, was easily within range to join the conversation, and he did. "If you need any help with it, I'd be glad to lend a hand. You did a good thing for us, after all. And Marisol—she's your... daughter?" Vito looked a bit on the young side to be her father, but not by much, and things like that weren't exactly uncommon, especially not in places like they'd lived.

"Mio caro, yes. The only family I have. Also very likely to be the death of me one of these days, but that's how it goes." He grinned then, flashing teeth for just a moment. "I think she was feeling a bit envious of me yesterday. Not for the situation, of course, but for the fact that there was something to be done about it. Quite some time has passed since either of us have had anything you might call an adventure. A pity the circumstances were so foul, else I might have enjoyed the change."

"I know the feeling. I've seen a lot of amazing places for a lot of terrible reasons." It had been rare that she'd gone anywhere on Inquisition orders that didn't involve war, or hostages, or to plan attacks or ambushes. "I just try to focus on the good I'm doing, rather than the bad that necessitated it."

Vito led them towards the waterfront and then along it, past warehouse after warehouse, dock after dock. On the other side of the harbor were the University District and the Gardens, tranquil as could be, protected by a gap of water from the rabble of the poorer districts. Lia could count on one hand the number of times she'd had cause to visit those places.

She held one hand out to grab Vito by the sleeve and gently tug him sideways out of the street. "Lookout ahead," she whispered, pointing him out. He was human, mercenary in appearance, armed with an axe and shield. A fairly run of the mill Riverbend thug, but that was probably why he got watch dog duty. "This has to be the place. They might already be meeting inside." It was a tall warehouse, with entrances on both visible floors and a lot of space to work with. There looked to be a staircase on the back side, but it too was guarded. The windows, though...

"What do you think?" she asked the others. "I can get inside without being noticed, take the high ground. How do you want to play it?"

"I probably can't," Cor admitted wryly. He was decked out in full plate today, and not exactly inconspicuous, even at the best of times. "I think it might be best for us to wait nearby. We can prepare to rush the place on your signal, and hope we don't have to." He glanced to Vito, as if to confirm that the mage would agree to the arrangement. "If you don't mind sticking around after all, that is."

"If we do need to enter, I can always create a distraction a ways off. Magic's good for that." He smiled, nodding easily to Cor. "But to answer your question, yes. I am more than happy to help."

"Okay. I'll get inside and see what I can overhear. Maybe we'll get lucky and one side will leave. We only need one reliable source here, after all." It remained to be seen who exactly the sides were, but they at least knew that fighting everyone present at this meeting as just three was a bad call. Taking in and exhaling a slow breath, Lia set out.

She climbed the neighboring warehouse rather than the one in question, wanting to get onto the rooftops. The gaps between them were just short enough that she could clear the distance without needing to make too much noise. She timed her ascent carefully, wary of the patrolling thugs, but they didn't seem to be keeping a lookout up high, only watching the street-level approaches. With a leap Lia landed on top of the meeting warehouse. She then carefully lowered herself over the edge, squeezing feet first through a half-open window.

She set her weight down carefully on the inside, finding herself on an upper-level platform of what seemed to be a boathouse. A small vessel that looked like a trade ship in construction was hung in the air by thick ropes in the center of the space. Both the upper and ground floors were littered with crates, building materials and tools, offering plenty of places to hide. Lia made a quick and quiet hop onto the ship itself, already hearing voices. The first was low and gruff, the accent placing him as a dwarf born of Orzammar.

"... so you're gonna need to explain this one to me, grandpa. I was promised profits, and what I got was a fuckin' riot. Word's already spreading what this ember shit does to you. If you want me to keep sellin', I'm gonna need some reassurance. Dead customers and a burned down city ain't on my agenda, and I'd really hate to hear if it was on yours."

Carefully checking for any lookouts nearby, Lia chanced a look down from the edge of the ship at the people below. The one speaking was indeed a dwarf that had be Kotter. Tattooed face with the Casteless brands of Orzammar, with similar designs running down his arms after his Carta-leathers cut off. He carried a hefty maul near the head in one hand. At his side was an Orlesian man, rogueish of appearance, his long hair already touched by grey. By the staff he openly wielded, he was a mage. They were a stark contrast to the man they looked to be dealing with, however.

Lia had been around an army long enough to pick out an obvious military bearing when she saw one. The man was garbed in poorer clothing, but didn't match his posture or the longblade that rested on his back. Unlike the mage, his hair and beard was entirely gray, the years having robbed them of their color. He stood above both dwarf and mage, his hands on his hips and with a scowl on his face. He did not seem to enjoy having to explain himself to the dwarf.

"What did you expect when you started selling this shit?" the man snarled.

Kotter shifted his grip on the maul to the end, lifting it to rest atop his shoulder. "I expected repeat customers, not dead ones. Now I have weeks' worth of the filth, and I've half a mind to burn it. Embers to ashes. Better it than this city. My home now, just as yours. I don't know what your crusade is, old man, but you can count me out of it."

The man mimicked the dwarf, letting his own hand come to rest on the longblade's hilt over his shoulder, his feet settling into a defensive posture.

"You're shortsighted, dwarf. You would've gotten your damn customers if you were patient. Give the elves a little taste of power in their worthless lives, and you would've had the whole fucking slum buying from you. So what if they burned it down?"

The rest of the bodies in the room tensed as well, slowly starting to point weapons at each other. Kotter didn't look at ease, either. "I do business in that slum. I recruit in that slum. I lost some friends last night. Some of my people lost their kids, and they're asking me why I'm working with this Castle-town knight who wants their babies butchered. My answer? I'm not. Fuckin' psychopaths under that armor, the lot of you."

He exhaled, taking the maul into both hands before he glanced sideways at the mage. "Do it, Bleeder."

"Aye, boss." The mage, flicked his hand, sending several sharp daggers of ice towards the boat—or rather, towards the ropes holding it up. His aim was excellent, and the shards cut right through the weave of three of the four of those closest.

Without any more warning than that, the boat fell, and for a moment Lia was entirely weightless, before she crashed to the ground in the wreckage that fell between the two groups.