#gold and red and charcoal for the chantry

[dellamortethelesser]

Blood is spilt while holding keys to the throne Born again but it's too late to atone No mercy from the edge of the blade Dare escape and learn the price to be paid Let the water flow with shades of red now Arrows black out all the light (light) Death is riding into town with armor They come to grant you your rights

So, since everyone else has been dropping their Origins character in their older, Inquisition era... I figured I should work on the same for Mahanon! This was originally an AU design, but it's so gorgeous that I'm considering making it canon to his worldstate; @vahingoniloinenlapsi did an excellent job capturing the look I was going for! Mahanon has always been one to flirt with fringe cults; why wouldn't he take advantage of the rising power and shack up with the Inquisition? The Sword of the Herald, perhaps?

Image description in the alt text :)

[vigilskeep]

i know it’s canonically crimson and charcoal, i know that, but it’s literally so bad at making them stand out against the chantry that they barely put it in the game!! which is maybe thematically the point, i admit, that they really are no different, that their colours canonically represent their links to templars and seekers. but what am i going to do, make my inquisitor red-themed? that’s taken, buddy! hawke’s already there! inquisition is clearly the green game. but inexplicably that’s not even that easy to do in mods. it’s never the best looking ones. and i never like the green tints for the inquisitor’s armours, i love the monochrome tints, i’m obsessed with that vibe for an inquisition. so do i make the inquisition black and white or white and gold for that aesthetic of divinity and purity? isn’t that completely off the rails from canon? will i be able to stand that? maybe i should just commit to the canon aesthetic that nobody who’s played the game even notices—[we go in this loop for another month]

trying to consider my mod options for dai always comes back down to deciding what colour scheme i think even represents the inquisition

[buttsonthebeach]

Miles to Go

@lyrium-lovesong asked me to write about her lovely universe once more, and I jumped at the chance to tackle Cullen’s POV! Thank you for this treat, friend <3

I previously wrote Saltwater, which features Freya.

Pairing: Freya Lavellan x Cullen Rutherford

Rating: General

**********

Cullen Rutherford was, allegedly, a master of self-restraint. A man who had spent his life studying it, in fact. A man who had combed through the Chantry’s litanies searching for more and more and more of it. Seeking out where all the lines were and then judiciously avoiding or guarding those lines.

Some of that had fallen away, after Meredith. Kirkwall. But in large part he still prided himself on it. He did not take unnecessary risks in his chess games with Dorian. He did not lose his temper when Leliana and Josephine argued for courses of action that he disagreed with, or when they teased him. Most importantly, he had not once taken lyrium again.

(He’d opened the pouch yes, yes, looked at it, thought about it, dreamed about it, thrown the whole thing against walls, yes, but all of those were further signs of his self-restraint.)

And he, of course, did not spend time worrying about Freya Lavellan while she was away.

That, besides the lyrium, was his greatest self-restraint. At least in Cullen’s own eyes - he had not told anyone else he felt that way. Most people would laugh at the thought. The great Commander, struggling to restrain himself from giving in to worry. So he wore that secret close to his skin, beneath every layer of armor. Swallowed it down like a sick man’s bile.

He feared for Freya almost as much as he loved her.

She was in the Emerald Graves hunting Red Templars, looking for evidence Samson had left behind, when he articulated those words clearly to himself. It was two weeks after she’d left, and he was lying in his bed, looking up at the blue-black night above him through the hole in his ceiling, at the pinpricks of the stars. After so long inside stone walls and towers it was good to be reminded they were there. This night, the comfort of that thought was interlaced with thoughts of Freya - which stars she looked upon, where she was sleeping, how her day had gone, how many times she had risked herself in battle against Corypheus’s forces, against monstrous creatures. 

The thoughts were as entwined as he wished they were at that moment. The stars are beautiful tonight, and I miss Freya. The breeze feels good, and I wish Freya was here. He longed for her so strongly that the longing took physical shape and crawled into bed beside him, half convincing him that she was there, her leg thrown across his, her head pillowed on his chest, the scent of her skin and her red hair tickling his nose. At one point, half-asleep, he reached out to touch her, to stroke her back and kiss her forehead, only to realize with a start she was not there. He knew soldiers who had lost limbs, and said it felt like this - like there were times the limb seemed to come back to them, so real they could feel it once again, only to vanish like smoke.

I fear for Freya almost as much as I love her.

There was a mathematical logic in that thought, he supposed, rolling over, trying to chase the feeling of loss away. Perhaps the Maker had always weighed out fear and love in equal parts, like a merchant weighing gold and goods (you must pay this much fear for this much love) and Cullen had never known it until now. What was not logical was how much he’d been struggling to sleep since Freya left. He’d slept alone most of his life, and there were still many nights when she slept in her own chambers even when she was at Skyhold. He should be more used to this than he was to having her here, her cold feet seeking the warmth of his body, her wriggling and stirring and even occasional snoring startling him awake.

And yet, there he was, unable to sleep. Unable to think of anything but her.

Some self-restraint.

So he sat up, slung himself out of bed, and went to put on his armor. Maybe the ritual of that would be enough to bring him back to himself, his discipline. Instead he found himself thinking of her again, of the time she asked to be taught how to help him with his armor, how he’d told her it wasn’t necessary, he knew how to remove it and don it himself. How she’d rolled her eyes at him.

“I know that,” she’d said. “But I want to learn. Just because you can do something yourself doesn’t mean you should always have to.”

And just like that, there were phantom hands alongside his own - smaller and more gentle, hands used for picking herbs and healing the sick, and Cullen wanted to drop his hands to his sides and let them take over. To surrender to the feeling of being loved and cared for.

But no one was there. Not really.

Maybe she isn’t coming back this time.

He strode out of his chambers, willing the thought to stay behind.

As he made his way down the rampart that connected his chambers to the rotunda, he saw a soldier approaching at a quick step, and instinctively straightened his posture, tensed his jaw. He needed to be Commander Rutherford, now. Not some lovesick fool.

“Commander Rutherford. Did someone already come to wake you?”

“No. I had an idea to improve our defenses here, and I wanted to walk and make notes before the idea left me.”

Lying to people under his command never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, but it was still better than the truth. Your Commander misses his lover so much that he can’t sleep.

“Oh. That works out I suppose. I was sent to wake you and tell you that you are wanted at the War Table. The Inquisitor has sent urgent correspondence back from the Emerald Graves. She thinks she may know where Samson and his lot can be found - where we might get to the secret of Samson’s armor.”

Cullen’s heart leapt twice - once at the thought that they might have his former colleague pinned down, and then once, even higher, at the confirmation that this news from Freya was recent. That there would be a letter from her waiting at the War Table, written in her hand, that perhaps other letters had arrived, more personal ones.

You have truly gone soft, Rutherford. Focus.

He followed the soldier through the rotunda, across the cavernous great hall, past its empty throne, and down the long crumbling corridor that led to the War Table. Leliana and Josephine were both already present, Josephine looking particularly tired, while Leliana looked as alert as ever. He wondered what sort of impression he presented.

“Well,” Cullen said. “Let’s see this letter.”

“Letters, actually,” Leliana said, handing him a packet of parchment, and once again, Cullen’s heartbeat picked up its tempo, just a little, just enough for him to notice, at the thought that they all might be from Freya. 

Instead they were all in Samson’s hand, dark and angular. He pressed hard on his pencils and quills whenever he wrote, leaving splotches and splatters of ink, or smearing the charcoal. Cullen experienced a moment of childish frustration, wanting to push them aside and ask if there had been any from Freya, or if these had just arrived with no context at all. Then a wave of shame washed over him, settling by his feet, lapping at his ankles, making him feel cold even beneath the layers of armor. He had dedicated himself to the Inquisition and its cause before he ever dedicated himself to Freya. How dare he let his personal feelings interfere with the task at hand for even an instant? Especially when being a good commander was the best thing he could do to ensure Freya’s safety?

“She got these from intercepting caravans of red lyrium in the Graves, yes?” Cullen asked as he skimmed them for more details, a picture already forming in his mind. None of the letters directly stated where the red lyrium came from, but they did talk about how long it was taking to get where it was going, and that gave him an idea of where to start looking on the map.

“That is correct. I am reading her letter now,” Josephine said, and Cullen’s eyes flicked towards her, seeing the parchment in her hand, seeing how the candlelight illuminated it so that he could see Freya’s handwriting clear as day. Cullen would let her finish reading it. It would be his turn soon enough, and then he could trace the letters, and it would be as close as he had come to touching her in weeks.

“Does she say where they were found?”

Cullen continued his questioning and studying, half of his attention on the smugglers’ letters, half on the answers Josephine and Leliana gave. He was forming a picture in his mind, imaging both the paths of the Red Templars and Freya in the Emerald Graves. She’d been there once before already and told him how brilliantly green they were, and how haunted they seemed. Life and death entwined. What stories would she bring back to him this time?

“Emprise du Lion,” he said finally. “I can study the maps and routes more thoroughly tomorrow, but I am fairly certain. They are quarrying the red lyrium in Emprise du Lion and then shipping it throughout Thedas. The Emerald Graves has been a major thoroughfare, but I am more than willing to believe that Freya has made a mess of that plan in the course of acquiring these letters.”

Pride tinged the words - because he feared for her, yes, but he was also fiercely proud of her. This brave and capable woman who chose to come back to him when she was done saving the world.

(Even if it seemed like it would never really be done, like it would only grow more dangerous each day.)

“As am I,” Leliana said. “I would respond telling her to rendezvous with us here in Skyhold before heading out to the Emprise, but she says here that there is a matter Solas wishes to attend to in the Exalted Plains. Depending on how long that takes, she may not be able to return to us in Skyhold before the passage is blocked by snow and ice.”

“That is not the worst turn of events,” Josephine mused. “We might wish to redirect Inquisition forces to aid her before she gets there. Your spies for intelligence, Cullen’s soldiers for support against the Red Templars, my nobles for supplies and shelter.”

“Agreed,” Leliana said. “We will continue to coordinate that with her as she heads to the Plains and back. Cullen?”

It was a good plan. 

It was a good plan that would keep Freya away from Skyhold for several more weeks, and send her into the depths of the Red Templars’ organization.

He felt his fingers tightening on the letters, and forced himself to relax.

“Yes. Let us begin drawing up the letters and other orders.”

They worked long enough on the plans that by the time they emerged, the sky was beginning to lighten - deep navy turning to a softer shade of blue, gold and pink tingeing the easternmost mountaintops. Cullen knew that soon Freya would wake and see the same dawn.

I hope you get the chance to enjoy it, love. I can’t wait until the next time we watch one together. I miss you. I love you.

“Cullen,” Josephine called. She held out a small square of parchment as she approached. “This was tucked inside the envelope that everything else came in. I only just noticed it. I believe it is for you.”

Cullen waited until Josephine had walked a distance away, and then he unfolded it, and saw Freya’s messiest handwriting, and six short words.

I miss you. I love you.

An echo of his own unspoken words just moments before - a miracle as real as anything in the Chant of Light. A reminder that his life was not all self-restraint and fear. That love could outweigh all of it, and yet also lighten every burden he carried. It was not a guarantee against all the darkness in the world, against all the things that could go wrong - but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Cullen smiled and walked on, ready to face the dawn.

[dalishious]

Some Fun Facts from The Art of Dragon Age Inquisition

(Because I actually read shit instead of just looking at the pretty pictures, finally)

“Orlais has its fineries, Ferelden its furs.” (pg 9)

The signature look of the Inquisition pulled inspiration from Babylon and Mesopotamia, and early Islamic and traditional Sikh armours. (pg 9)

The colours of the Inquisition are charcoal grey and crimson, evoking the Inquisition’s ties to the Seekers, in black, and the templars, in red. (pg 9)

The war table was once a symbol of peace “between two forgotten factions.” Before Skyhold was built, the tree was cut down and made into a war table. (pg 26)

Chantry uniforms share similar but more modest aspects of Orlesian fashion, as the Chantry was founded in Orlais. (pg 55)

Varric was originally going to have a bit of scruff on his face. This was rejected because “Varric’s smooth face symbolizes his rejection of dwarven culture.” (pg 63)

Fans (and Dorian) like to joke that Solas dresses like an “apostate hobo,” but that is literally the look they were going for, his appearance made of “homemade improvisations born from necessity.” (pg 68)

The Breach acts like an “unchecked oil spill,” and early renderings reflected this more in the design. (pg 70, 78)

For the revist to Redcliffe, the red was embraced, and contrasted with pale plaster. (pg 83)

Dorian’s concept was that of a “rock star mage.” (pg 84)

Dorian’s clothes are actually typical Tevinter mage robes he’s modified to make his own style. (pg 86)

The Venatori warriors? Apparently they’re slaves. (pg 91)

Chant of Light iconography is intentionally supposed to show the creator’s political motivations, as “religion, art and politics often intertwine.” (pg 97)

Finer Orlesian style buildings were influenced by Gothic architecture and the Vatican City. Noble buildings typically feature the colours blue, gold and white prominently. White marble with gold details is a signature look. It’s also common to see Andraste and Chantry iconography featured even in secular buildings. (pg 109, 113, 116, 132)

But while Orlais looks pretty, it is nothing but a mask of renovation after renovation, held together underneath by rotting wood. In Orlais, it doesn’t matter if something is weak, so long as it doesn’t look weak. (pg 109)

Orlesian dress also follows this philosophy; nobles wear clothes of rich dyes, complex patterns, and fine fabrics in designs meant to mask their ‘imperfections.’ Outlandish designs are commonplace, with flowing layered garb, high shoulder pads, dresses with long trains, heavily applied colourful makeup, and of course, elaborate masks are worn at the expense of function and mobility. (pg 109, 125)

Aesthetics trump practicality among Orlesians, and practicality trumps aesthetics among Fereldans. (pg 116)

Early concepts of Val Royeaux featured a drained canal system where the impoverished lived, but this was abandoned because they felt it was too similar to Kirkwall. (pg 116) [This is a shame, since its existence was described in Asunder.]

Vivienne’s style of dress drew inspiration from high fashion and religions ceremonial clothing. (pg 140)

Tevinter architecture features strong horizontals and verticals, accentuated with high-contrast, precious stone and metal materials and sharp edges, lots and lots of sharp edges. Mages are employed to literally lift stone pillars from the earth to act as foundations. (pg 156, 157, 159)

Mythal’s temple in the Arbor wilds is made of greens and golds, commonplace for ancient elven designs in the “glory days.” Inspiration for all the wilds around it was taken from primal forests in New Zealand and Vancouver Island. (pg 177)

The golden mosaics for the Elven Pantheon are meant to speak for the culture’s reverence for higher power, rather than vanity, in contrast to Orlais, where things are pretty for the sake of being pretty. (pg 185)

When designing dragons, artists referenced a large range of predators, from prehistoric reptiles to large jungle cats. (pg 209)

Ferelden’s idea of high-end fashion is wood, stone and ore. (Again, an extreme contrast to Orlais!) Fereldans prefer to show their wealth through strength and performance rather than what looks pretty. (pg 227)

Finally, here’s a picture of a nug skeleton:

[whiskeyworen]

MIRIYA - SISTERS "When was the last time all three of us got together like this?" Miriya asked, slipping into the seat at the table. Truth be told, she didn't so much 'slip in' as 'hop up', since the seats were all human-sized. Extremely resilient seats too; though scaled for humans, each one had to be able to support a full grown Norn or Charr without breaking. Someone out there must be making a killing on specialized chairs she thought idly as she plopped into the seat and flashed a grin at the other person at the table. "Fairly long time, I think." Her sister Sonnya replied, sipping her lager. She looked every part the responsible older sister; the uncomplicated and efficient hair style, the simple tunic she wore in place of her heavy Guardian armor, the fact she wore very little in the way of makeup. Were she to stand by her sister, Sonnya would 'tower' over her by a full three inches, making her the big sister in more than just title. Far too often in their collective pasts, she'd been forced to regulate arguments and fights between her younger siblings. "Last time I saw you directly was during the war with Mordremoth, when we were all playing at Jungle Fighter." Miriya nodded while indicating to the waiter her drink order. She too, had forgone the usual combat gear for something simple; a strangely bright sundress quite at odds with her profession. Sonnya thought to ask her about it but declined after a moment's thought. "I nearly forgot about that. Between dodging poison vines and defending Tarir, my krewe and I were fairly occupied." She glanced at the empty spot at the table and raised an eyebrow. "So...is she going to be here?"

Sonnya nodded, grimacing slightly. "She said she'd be here. Probably got waylaid. While she's out though, we...need to talk." Immediately all of Miriya's alarms went off. Her ears snapped up, curling away from her face and twitching with concern and worry. Oh no...don't tell me she's heard about Kaleb. Please don't let this be the Talk about Interspecies Relations... "Uh.. talk about what?" "Tenna." The sourness in the older sister's tone caught her by surprise. "I suppose you haven't heard the rumors floating out of Rata Sum?" Well, there IS that pile of notices and orders sitting back on my desk in the Chantry of Secrets... Swear I'll get to that some day. Miriya took a sip from the drink that had arrived, using the edge of the stein to hide her pursed lips.  "What kinds of rumors are we talking? Did she... get involved with the Inquest or something?" Sonnya shook her head slowly. "No...not that bad. And yet, it's worse. Since the war with the Jungle Dragon, I've been getting observer reports coming in from Vigil weaponeers. About an Asura with the Danae name who's apparently gone off the bend." The necromancer sister couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I know Tenna's a bit of a firebrand and a wild thinker, but I wouldn't call her insane..." Her sister, the Guardian, just traced a fingertip around the rim of her mug. "...She hasn't slowed down, hasn't stopped, hasn't slept in who knows how long. Peacemaker security reports tell me she hasn't even returned to her dorms since the war began, and now that it's over she still hasn't come back." Miriya's laughter and smile slowly faded. "That's...ungood. I'm all for studying till it hurts, but even I sleep when I need to." Lately I've been preferring to, since I've got a nice warm human to snuggle up to--STOP IT! She cut her own thought off before it resulted in a blush that her very observant sister would have noticed. "Say...when did you start keeping tabs on her? You're not Whispers, so the spying game seems kinda weird." Her sister chuckled hollowly. "I have two sisters I think the world of. I also have two sisters who, given the right time and place, might accidentally do something to end that world. One of them is a necromancer of some repute who apparently delved so deep into the Entropic Cog of the Alchemy that some say she's already died and come back." The subsequent 'meep' from her dreadlock-headed sibling made her quirk a smile. "The other is an engineer with an absolute fascination with energy manipulation and explosives development, who's already tabled half a dozen designs for new explosion-based weapons so exotic that all five nations have unilaterally put them under lock and seal. Even the Council of Elders in Rata Sum wanted nothing to do with them." Miriya's jaw dropped. It took something massive to get the Council to lock it down; most of the time they'd steal the idea and claim it as their own, adding tweaks and modifications to seem like they'd improved it. For them to blacklist something meant it was so dangerous they couldn't risk it getting out. "You're serious? By the Cogs... Huh, I wonder if the notice for those is in my pile of mail.." "What?" "Nothing.  Just making a mental note..." "Yeah. Sure." Sonnya sipped her beer, knowing full-well that the Order of Whispers spy agency would have had detailed notes on all of that. If the Vigil could get a hold of details like that, it was progeny's play for the Whispers. Chances were pretty good that the information the Vigil got was FROM the Whispers! "Well, when she gets here we can talk to her about it." "Talk to me about what?" A perky voice chimed in, before a charcoal-skinned Asura popped up beside them, surprising them both. She hopped into her own seat, brushing one of her ponytails out her eyes before smiling at her sisters. "Sorry I'm late. I got...distracted." Tenna giggled as if she had told a joke, giving both sisters a chance to see how bedraggled she really was. Her normally straight hair, the color of bordeaux and tied into a pair of pony tails framing her face, with a third one on the back of her head holding her long hair off her body, seemed a bit...askew. The ponytail bindings weren't as tight, so hair had gotten loose and springing away from her typically immaculate hairstyle. Both of them could see soot in her hair and in places on her face, like her jawline or at the edge of her hairline. Overall, she looked messy, and perhaps just a little unhinged? They couldn't see her mouth, since she had her hand up to cover her face slightly, resting her elbow on the table to do so. But..something else seemed off. Her eyes... Miriya tried not to gasp in horror. They look so... Words failed her. Tenna's eyes, normally a bright golden orange, were both fairly sunken in her face, surrounded by tired, dark, I-haven't-slept-in-ages bags. The color was also muted; where her eyes used to shine like a solar reactor, the Asura looking back at Miriya had glassy, empty eyes that twitched from one sister to the other almost nervously. There was still the same wild humor, the twinkle of the practical joker she was in those eyes, but by their very sunkenness, the tone of that humor was changed. "Tenna..." Miriya began awkwardly, giving her younger sister a strained smile. The Danae sisters, though physically similar in some respects, had enough differences that it made them hard to believe they were blood sisters. "It's so good to see you. I trust you've been keeping out of trouble?" Of the three sisters, Sonnya was the oldest and the tallest. All three sisters shared the same facial markings, that of a trio of diamonds across their foreheads, but Sonnya's skin tone was almost a human-pink, rather than the shades of grey most Asura sported. Her hair was a plain orange-red, her eyes a strong, deep blue. Being the oldest sister, she'd grown up the responsible one, keeping her bickering siblings under control. As an adult she'd joined the Vigil rather than any of the Colleges, her disdain for study manifest. That didn't stop her from improving designs that came her way, but she was no wild inventor, and the Vigil needed steadfast soldiers, not starry-eyed dreamers. Miriya on the on other hand, was the middle sibling and out of the group, surprisingly the shortest. Where her older sister favored a more broad, tall frame, toned by battle and hard training, she herself was slim and small, a waif by Asuran standards. It ground her gears that she was the smallest of the trio, no matter that she was older than Tenna; some fluke of genetics had given her the petite frame she was born with. Sharp emerald eyes gazed out upon the world. Where her older sister favored a simple, asymmetric hairstyle, she had hers pulled and shaped into short, fingerlength dreadlocks, held back by her utilitarian headband. Her skin was remarkably pale for an asura, which she prided since she clearly felt it suited her profession as a Necromancer (extraordinaire, if you believed her). The black sheep of the group was Tenna. Last of the Danae, she had her older sister's height, but the middle sister's build. Tall and lanky, she had grown up being known as a gangly progeny and prone to accidents. Another genetic quirk had set off recessive genes in Tenna; instead of being pale or pink like her older siblings, Tenna was had a darker, almost sooty aspect to her skin. Her markings were inverted color, compared to the others; where they had dark marks on pale skin, hers were pale marks on dark skin. Were it not for her sleep-deprived bags under her eyes, she would have had bright, gold-orange eyes. There was a joke that persisted for years that Tenna had been able to see in the dark thanks to her unrealistically bright, shiny eyes. Tenna smiled behind her hand and signalled the waiter for something. Whatever the hand gesture was, the waiter flinched and then frowned, before nodding and departing to get it. The engineer waited till the drink was placed before her before answering her sister. "As much as able, not as much as I could." She replied vaguely, uncorking the glass bottle and pouring a fair bit of deep red liquid into her glass. It wasn't thick liquor; the ice in the glass barely stained with the ruby red of the liquid. "Been on the road lately, exploring, getting research materials..." "And developing a taste for Charr-style Blood whiskey, I see. " Sonnya pointed out disapprovingly, sipping her own beer. "You DO know what makes it 'blood' whiskey, right?" Tenna merely giggled, and took a sip. Still, she had her hand over her mouth, though she gave her lips a bit of a rub against her fingers. "It's a very interesting recipe. I've gotten quite accustomed to it." Her necromancer sister just watched her, before shrugging and drinking some of her own. She preferred wine, personally. In fact, she'd been drinking a bit more of it since... She cut the thought off before the blush started again. Damn, I really gotta control myself. At this rate it won't be secret anymore, will it? "Sis tells me you've been working on some new weapons or something? Explosives and such?" Miriya ventured, trying to divert the conversation to safer ground for them all. "Anything you can tell us? Or are you under one of those Council seals?" Tenna finally let her hand drop from her mouth, apparently satisfied with whatever she'd done until that moment. She took a long, bracing sip of the whiskey, wincing at its sharpness, before answering. "Nah. The actual diagrams and technology IS under seal, but I can still tell you about it. Not like you're gonna be able to build it from a bare description anyway." Both sisters looked at each other, and then at Tenna, blinking. They both expected to be told 'Classified' and then the conversation to move along. They leaned forward, almost conspiratorily. "So?..." Tenna shrugged, still grinning toothily. "Been working on a few projects. Small-scale application, Pact-fleet application, and a few private projects just for my entertainment, of course." She looked down at her drink. "Made a new grenade type, for starters. High density explosive based off Tonn's ship-cracker, melded with a fragmentation core, and laced with specially designed high-temp resistant spikes. Not using much of the explosive, but it's so powerful a few milligrams are equal to a standard grenade payload." "That's... wait. If you made it a frag grenade, then why add those 'high temp resistant spikes' or whatever?" Miriya puzzled, frowning. "Seems kinda redundant." Sonnya nodded. "Indeed. Wouldn't the frag core be sufficient to cause damage?" The dark-haired engineer nodded, trying to keep from giggling again. "Oh it would...but the spikes are for increased damage, burn damage, and morale-breaking. After the grenade goes off, in addition to the regular shrapnel, those spikes are thrown out. They're razor sharp, intensely heated by the blast but not deformed by it, and best of all, they richochet off hard surfaces." Her eyes flicked up and over to each of them, judging their reactions. She couldn't help but giggle as they made the connection. "All that razor-sharp spike storm, in a confined space, bouncing around like the goo-ball from an elixir gun... The pa-ting-ting-TANG of bouncing metal, all searching for something...meaty...to bury itself in. Burning hot to boot, so it practically cooks the flesh when it skewers it..." "By the Eternal Alchemy..." Miriya breathed. She'd seen Dhangalor's grenades in action before, shredding Orrian monstrosities and Mordrem plant abominations. Her own sister's devices made those pale. "That's just...heinous. I can definitely see the morale-shattering effect of it." Sonnya nodded mutely. She'd heard of the design, as it had crossed her desk before. Tonn's recipe was a state secret, but the Charr had been salivating at getting their hands on it. It was sealed by the council, but in time, those grenades might make it to the hands of those who could use them. "Heh... Also work great in a pinch for meal time." Tenna went on, almost distractedly. "Just toss into a room with a food animal and when the explosions are over, you got some nice cooked meat, pre-skewered for ease of eating." "Okay, that's just gross." Her older sister frowned, crossing her arms. "Especially if the creature wasn't killed in the blast. Then you gotta deal with it afterward." Tenna just shrugged mildly, as if it didn't bother her at all. "Secondary designs are for artillery shells, bombs, grenade launchers, that kind of thing. Simple fair." She continued. "Another project that got kiboshed by the Council was for an orbital energy weapon delivery platform. I don't think they liked the idea of someone putting nigh-untouchable magitek weapons in geosynch orbit." Sonnya eyed her sister suspiciously. "Where did you come up with THAT idea, pray tell?" Her engineer sister shrugged. "Files from the Scarlet Briar archives. Studies of the wreckage of the Breachmaker in all three forms it had." She smiled brightly. "That sylvari was in a class all her own. She was really onto something with ethertech, and that big slag-off ethercannon she tested in the Shiverpeaks. Got an idea what she'd intended it for, but that's MY secret." "In any case, while I was studying it, I was also trying to see...how shall I put this? I wanted to see how high a sentient-made device could go." Tenna giggled, licking her lips. "I used Tonn's explosive formula, of course, but with my own mixes. Made a nice long-burning, fuel source. Impractical for anything other than in engines or rockets. Which is what I did. I launched rockets with varying degrees of fuel, studded with sensors and golemites, and just...aimed at the sky." "Well, that still sounds more acceptable than the grenade." Miriya pointed out, nodding. Experimentation was all part of Dynamics. While her sister was a Synergetics College alumni, Miriya herself was Dynamics. The two fields often overlapped; the crazed experiments for-the-sake-of-experimenting Dynamics got passed over or incorporated into Synergetic scientists projects aimed at integrating new and exotic things into the fabric of society and knowledge. They took all experiments, failure or not, and added them to the warp and weave of the Asuran knowledge pool, often figuring out solutions the original scientists didn't see. "And what can you tell us of the upper atmosphere then?" "That the breathable part ends at about one hundred kilometers above sea level, for starters." Tenna looked at both sisters, and their gawping faces. "Oh yeah, that's right... neither of you knew. Did you think the atmosphere just kept going out and out, until it reached the stars?" Sonnya frowned, before nodding. "Well, just doing the math in my head for gas density versus gravity, that would make sense. If the atmosphere just kept going, gravity would cause it to naturally condense more and more on the surface, until it was unbearable, unlivable. Possibly even dangerous. We're talking tons per square inch here." Her dark haired sister nodded. "Yep. I mean, there's still SOME atmo up there; it doesn't just end like a forcefield. But it does trail off rather abruptly. Everything beyond that, from what I can tell from recovered probes, says there's only trace gases. The golemites that survived reentry...the ones that still could think, anyway, reported being unable to move around the rocket pod due to a lack of gravity. Around the fifth trial rocket I had to put magnets on the feet and hands, and bind the free-floating limbs with wire just so they wouldn't fall apart up there! I almost reverted back to using a design like those stupid old Novan golems, where all the bits are attached by machine." She stuck her tongue out, making a lemon-eating face. Archaic technology... "So what did you learn?" Sonnya asked, nibbling a corn chip from the appetizer that had appeared on the table. She hadn't asked for it, and was pretty sure no one had ordered it, but there it was anyway. Tenna smirked, removing a vial from her pocket and emptying its contents into her whiskey, before she stirred it with one long nailed finger. "That the council hates the idea of orbitally-launched, geosynchronous weapons systems. At least, ones that weren't under their control. Didn't stop the Inquest though. Those shit-eaters tried three times to either sink or commandeer my satellite with ones of their own based off what they could see of my design." She sighed, shaking her head. "The original rocket probes weren't meant to do much but measure stuff. But then I sent up my prototype beam cannon satellite, and I guess they got word of it. A shame for them that those golemites I sent up in the actual satellite were the most heavily armed ones I could get. And it's not like the satellite is undefended itself." Miriya quirked an eyebrow, noting the vial but saying nothing. "You mean you went paranoid and turned it into more than a study satellite didn't you." "Got it in one!" Tenna pointed at her sister, grinning, before taking a slug of her drink, wincing at the burn. " In addition to the sensor packages and the golemites in it, which are specially modified with weapons I made, the satellite package itself is studded with direct-fire energy weapons, retractable turrets, and then there's also the mega particle cannon I installed on it. Kinda the point of it really." Sonnya was stunned. "What could possibly be the point of THAT?! To burn a section of the planet to ash?" Tenna nodded brightly, her loose ponytail bobbing. "Exactly! I envisioned a network of them in orbit, placed all over the planet! Imagine being able to cut off dragon minions from their attack routes, carve the landscape into what you need, or better yet, just BURN the bastards out?" "By the Alchemy, that's just nuts." Miriya shook her head. "I mean, the Dragons are a threat, but you've heard the reports coming out of Rata Novus, and the instabilities everywhere; killing them isn't an option anymore. Maybe it never was, but we couldn't stop Zhaitan without completely annihilating him, and that bitch Scarlet left us no choice when she woke Mordremoth early. If we'd had time to build up our militaries and train them for jungle assaults, we could have approached him while he slept and fire-bombed everything." She sipped her drink, thinking. "Now we have to deal with the planet trying to break up underneath us, and rampant magic." "Well, whatever. Like I care." Tenna shrugged flippantly. "The Council, the human royalty, and the Charr Imperator, while they saw the benefits, worried the network would fall into less-than-admirable hands, and so quashed the idea immediately. Permanently forbid me from seeking funding for the network. So I was left with just my test satellite, and it's non-city-smashing laser." "They didn't take that one away?" "Not a chance. I bonded the control system to my own genetic structure, magic wavelength run through a cipher, voice control... and several other systems." She replied. "That satellite is mine; it's keyed to wipe out anything that approaches it that doesn't have my specific okay, which means coming from my labs with ALL my signatures on it. Its use is connected to me in a way I won't go into, but no one other than me can use it." She began to giggle again. "I can hit anyone I see from orbit with a pinpoint high energy strike born of the very energy of our world. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it." "They could kill you. Let it just drift in space." Sonnya offered sardonically. She pointed a finger-gun at her youngest sibling and closed an eye, sighting over an invisible iron sight. "No control, no weapon." Tenna smiled broadly, eyes closed in utter confidence, so very much like when they were younger. The cute redhead goofball from the past was suddenly before her older sister. "They could try. I've made it MUCH harder to kill me. And I don't think they'd like the consequences of killing me. It'd be...detrimental." She tilted her head to the side, oddly, still smiling. That smile, as playful as it was, was definitely giving Sonnya the creeps. It wasn't healthy. "How so?" The goofball grin shifted into something much less innocent; Tenna's eyes were hooded with something less wholesome than mere mischief. "If I die suddenly, the satellite goes on automatic. I've embedded scanners and sensors in my armor, and in my own body, thanks to a very capable sylvari surgeon. That satellite is recieving a constant datafeed from me. It doesn't matter if I don't see my killer; one of my sensors will. And then a moment later, the killer will be obliterated by a terawatt laser. The system is as heuristic as I can make it; all vectors included. If an Inquest shithead kills me, the laser starts with them, and then proceeds to work its way through the database of Inquest labs and fortresses, before taking down individual targets with a powered down version of the laser. Less collateral damage that way." She sipped her drink again, and this time Miriya noticed her eyes seemed to shimmer or glow brighter afterward. The bags under her eyes seemed to recede, and she looked slightly more refreshed. Whatever she'd slipped into her drink, it was reviving her? Miriya could feel something, on the edge of thought, the edge of reality; there was something familiar.... An energy of some kind, a violation of Death itself. It was minor right now, but with each second it was gaining resolution. She sat there confused as Tenna continued to blather about her weapons. "You're talking about potential mass murder from a weapon no one else can reach, Tenna. " Sonnya scolded, her concern rising with each moment. "Don't you think that's a little excessive?" Tenna shrugged mildly, still drinking her whiskey. "Not really. Vexa built her lab in Flame Legion territory to contain and continue her genetic experiments. Calx hid his lab behind a gateway system in the heart of a mountain. Oola hid hers in the jungle to keep people from her Necro-golem research (interesting concept, I'd have you). Our people have a history of hiding our best research and gear and all that behind layers of defenses and automatic weaponry. Mine is just orbitally based, and VERY vengeful." She started to laugh, rocking in her seat and slapping a palm against the table top. "I'm just following everyone else!" While she laughed, Miriya and Sonnya passed a look between each other. Had their sister officially lost her mind? It was true Asuran paranoia was well known, and the best researchers and inventors had sequestred themselves away from others for the sake of hiding their research until they were ready to reveal it...but... Tenna's laughter finally started to fade, and she brushed a tear from her eye before draining her drink. With a triumphant slam, she signalled for a fresh drink from the bar. "'Nother one! I'm still seeing straight!" There it was again; when Tenna drained the drink, that odd sensation, that whisper Miriya was hearing in the back of her mind got louder. Much louder. It was seemingly focused on Tenna. She stared at her sister as she cracked another vial into her new drink, stirring it with a finger. Miriya glanced at Sonnya, and noticed she too seemed suddenly wary. Was she feeling something?

Unbeknownst to Miriya, she was right; Sonnya felt something disturbing as well. As a Guardian, she was trained to notice changes, both magically and physically in the area around her. It was part of Guardian training to master any battlefield, which meant that if the battlefield suddenly started to change, you studied and adapted to it. Foreign weapon making fighting hard? Adjust. Alien magic warping your opponent or the landscape or something? Identify, adjust, eliminate. Purge the unclean with holy fire based from the diamond hard sureity of your own soul. The stronger your faith was, the more you could undo the damage someone had done.

All too often, Sonnya's mere prescence on the Vigil battlefield had sent Orrian monstrosities reeling. The flames of her devotion to the cause manifested ghostly blue fire across her entire body, and, combined with the channelling crystals and specialized sigils she had personally installed in every piece of her gear, she could vent those flames as a physical weapon; no ally would ever be harmed, but anyone that stood in her path would burn. In a private, self-indulgant moment, she had once confessed she called it the Exterminatus. Sitting there, staring at her youngest sibling as she drank a drink corrupted with...something... she could feel that distortion to the Right Order growing. What had Tenna gotten into?!

It was Miriya who suddenly recognized the unfamiliar-yet-familiar distortion. Her face paled as she realized just what it was, but... how had Tenna gotten her hands on it?!

"Tenna..." She asked tenatively. "What...is that you mixed into your drink?" Tenna paused her stirring, but didn't look at her sister at all. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. A small, knowing smile crossed her lips. "Oh, it's just... something. Something very interesting." She replied, feigning evasiveness.

"How so?" Sonnya added, her voice hard. It was less a question than a demand. Big sister needed to be big sister.

"It was quite interesting actually. Several months ago, a plasma sample was sent to the Dynamics labs. It was bounced around the labs, with no one making progress since there was little detail on its origins. All data had been put under lock and key. Or deliberately omitted." She sat back, smiling wistfully. "So there I was, in the Synergetics labs, struggling to deal with stress, lack of sleep, requests for translations from the Priory, an upcoming presentation for an invention I hadn't created yet... and this vial gets passed to me by a coworker who was seeing a girl in Dynamics." Her smile twisted slightly. It seemed slightly more toothy than before. "Well, I did my own analysis and discovered that there was something very wrong with the sample. There was an active blood-borne viral parasite component latched onto every single red blood cell, even the white cells. I did an analysis of the T cells, and discovered that the viral component was bypassing the normal immune responses by literally being slightly out of phase; every time a leukocyte started to draw a bead on one and try to kill it, the virus's membrane coating would shift chaotically until it no longer matched up. Very tenacious." "So the immune system couldn't touch it, and yet it wasn't killing cells. This virus, if you could call it that, was making subtle, random changes to the DNA of its target. Some of the changes were fairly regular, which means whoever the poor bastard is, they're gonna start seeing some teratological changes the longer they're infected." Tenna shook her head. "I don't know precisely what that'll entail, but it won't kill them. Oh no...definitely not." "You see, the virus was also actively repairing telomeres. It wasn't reversing telomere damage that had happened prior to infection, but no new telomeres were being lost." She glanced at her sisters. "The subject of that virus was no longer going to age. Whatever age they were infected at, they might age two for every ten now. The virus isn't perfect, but it's damned good at its job." Miriya's mind was racing; she was right. She knew who the sample came from...and where they'd got the virus. Oh alchemy...is that why? Is that why things are starting to change? "What...what else do you know about it?" Tenna looked over at her suspiciously, and then smirked knowingly. "Oh... not much. Just that it tries to improve its host while following some unknown guideline. I got markers for enhanced strength, muscle-changes increasing reaction muscle, a marker for eyesight change, but I don't know what... things like that. Enhanced healing and regeneration, since it co-opts the ATP production and triples it. I imagine that if the infection continues uncontested that there might come a time when the 'victim', if you can call it that, might be able to lose a limb and regrow it in a matter of minutes, at the cost of personal stored energy. Lose an arm and regrow it in three minutes, but need to eat like an Arctodus shortly after. You'd be RAVENOUS." She started to giggle. There was something unhealthy about that giggle. It was too deep, too personal. Like there was something about the pun that was so very, very funny that only she'd get the joke. "Ravenous... which the virus takes into account in a very, very interesting way." Tenna toyed with the vial in her fingers, watching the leftover fluid rolling around the glass. "It depletes iron something fierce. More when there's injury. The need for iron, for....hemoglobin... will be an almost unstoppable thirst. The subject will be able to surpress it the same way you surpress being hungry...but at some point, they WILL give in to the Thirst." She dipped a finger into the vial and brought out a golden droplet on her finger, before delicately licking it off her fingertip. "Keep the virus happy, it keeps you happy. And makes you better as a gift." There was an almost audible snap as both sisters came to the same realization. "No... you didn't....?" "That's obscene! You didn't seriously test it on..." All Tenna could do was smile.  A wide, toothy smile. In fact, it was perhaps too toothy. Asura were known for their sharp teeth, but Tenna's seemed just a little bit TOO sharp. Miriya stared at her sister in horror. It was true. She had been right; somehow, Kaleb's infected blood sample, his blood infected by whatever made that bitch Maeva into a fleshreaving monster, had made it to Tenna's desk. And she'd gone and... "Oh unclench, you two." Tenna giggled. "I stabilized the virus easily. The reason why it was so unstable was because it was laced with a Torment energy. Once that was stripped away, I used my sciences and skill with magical manipulation to reprogram it to what I wanted. Enhanced healing, stamina, strength, etc." Almost as an afterthought, she added "I couldn't remove the Thirst aspect though. Every attempt destroyed the virus. It's too deeply built into its structure to remove entirely." Both older sisters shifted slightly away from their sibling. She'd deliberately infected herself with a viral component just....because? Sonnya shook her head in disappointment. "I'm not one to use another culture's euphamisms, Tenna, but, By the Six, what in the hell have you done to yourself?" Tenna's eyes shrouded, their sullen orange glowing a vibrant gold. "Made. Myself. Better. And if you can't handle that, then this is where we draw the lines. There are those who accept me, accept the changes I've made. They don't judge me like you two." She glared at Miriya. "You, the Twice-dead. The Deathshroud addict. The Scourge of the wastes. You with your minions cobbled together with the expended life-essence of countless things, imbued with intelligence from beyond the grave. You who hides a romance with a HUMAN." She hissed the word, as if it were a curse. " You would dare judge ME? " Her gaze snapped over to her oldest sister. "Or you. The stoic one. The consumate soldier and blessed older sister. The 'responsible' one. The one hiding an even deeper secret than a love of a bookah. You would judge me? How dare you." Sonnya twitched like she'd been slapped. "Both of you left me in Rata Sum. I ended up joining the Priory because I didn't know anything about the outer world, because you LEFT ME THERE." She clenched her fists. "I didn't have the virus back then, but when I returned to work on that paper, it was there waiting for me. Like a gift. A boon in the disguise of a curse. I no longer needed to fear being weak and helpless compared to my powerful sisters." She glared at them both. "One of you has incredible magic powers, and the other has strength born of nothing but FAITH of all things. I had none of that. I had my inventions, my tools, and my ideas. But that virus..." she sighed tiredly. "I was so tired of being stressed out. Of wondering if I'd be accidentally killed in a lab accident, or an Inquest raid. Of the distant worry of being annihilated by Dragons  or their minions. Or a mad human god or two. Do you have any idea how afraid I was?" Her grip on the vial was tightening, the glass creaking in her grasp. "There was no way out for me. But then I found the virus, purified it, rectified it... And now I know there's nothing that can stop me. Me or my allies." For a long, painful moment there was dead silence. Neither older sister knew what to say. Miriya tried to reach out to her, but Tenna shook off her hand. Sonnya just crossed her arms, slouching, and stared into her drink, contemplating how badly things had gotten screwed up. "...I've left the Priory. Told them I was on sabbatical. Same thing for the Dynamics college." Tenna whispered. She squeezed the vial again; this time a faint crick of cracking glass could be heard from her palm. "I don't think I'll be going back. The only place I need to be is with my allies...with my friends. If I need protecting, they'll protect me. And they know they can count on me to protect them in turn." "You...found a krewe." "No...not a krewe. A team. Strangers. Odd ones like me, who don't fit in." Her voice was sad, even as her grip tightened. This time there was a noticable snap, and shards of glass dribbled out of her hand, followed by a thin streamer of blood. As calm as she looked at that moment, she'd crushed the vial and cut her palm. What unsettled Miriya and Sonnya though, was the fact that Tenna had shown utterly no reaction to it. She hadn't flinched, blinked, or even changed expression. It was like she hadn't felt it, even though she was looking at her hand. Slowly, delicately, she opened her hand, letting the larger chunks fall to the table, before plucking individual shards out of her palm and fingers. At no point did she show a sign of pain. In fact, she was almost smilingly with wonder. when she was done, she held her hand up for them to see. "....Cuts are already healing. In another minute, they'll be fully healed." "That fast..." Miriya breathed, visibly watching the wounds seal. She'd only seen that kind of healing through the use of magic or various concoctions. Seeing it from just someone's body was amazing. "...pain reduction, endorphine release. Rapid healing and regeneration." Tenna flexed her fingers, still bloody. Idly she brought her hand to her mouth and began to lick the blood away, leaving a smear on her cheeks and jaw as she dragged her hand across her mouth. "Mmm...waste-not-want-not. Might have to get a Dolyak burger later. Like I said, there's a trade off..." "Tenna, I..."  Sonnya began, but a male voice from the door interrupted her. "Tenna. Are you ready?" Sillouetted in the door were three figures and an animal. The first was a human, male, with slicked back sandy-blonde hair. A pair of glasses adorned a face marked with a very prominent mark over his right eye. At first glance it looked like he'd been punched or scratched, but a closer inspection revealled it as a very elaborate and foreign symbol of some kind. He had blue eyes, but it must have been a trick of the lighting; the eye that the symbol/bruise was centered on had some kind of glow or reflection in its pupil, visible for a second before fading. Miriya had to do a double-take when she realized what he was wearing. There were minor differences in details, like the gloves were clearly Elonian gauntlets, but he seemed to be wearing a heavily modified suit of Aetherblade Magitech armor. It had been a while since she’d seen that kind of gear, but it was unmistakable with the furnace-like power core at his neck and the spiked shoulder guard who’s glow spoke of hidden magitech.   Certainly, suits of that kind had been salvaged from the Breachmaker after it went down, but usually ruined or in pieces. His seemed...tailor-made. Could he have been an Aetherblade? She wondered. There were no records of crew to be salvaged, and all the other sky pirates had either been captured and forced into servitude to pay off their crimes, or had escaped deep into the Mists with their airships, presumably to other Scarlet Briar bases as-yet undiscovered. The second was a dark rose-tinted sylvari with collapsable twinswords at her hips. Though the lines of her face were delicate and could be considered beautiful, the hard expression on her face told of a severe personality. Contrasting that severity, her hair was like soft fern fronds or jade plant, smooth and curling. She looked uneasily at the sisters, almost disapprovingly, her expression revealling a mark on her jaw that seemed to be a scar of some kind, curving down along her jawline. As they watched, her natural sylvari glow, pale green, illuminated that scar. It would have been unnoticable were it not for the glow. Behind them, twice as big as any of them and armored in the most brutal armor any of them had ever seen was a Charr dam. Long white hair hung down from her tawny head, her helmet latched to a belt loop. Her armor, contrary to standard Legion colors, was an unassuming gunmetal grey, trimmed by the darkest black and a bright, warning yellow. In places, if one looked carefully, you could see chevroned 'warning' markers emblazoned along her plate. One grand shoulderpad held an embossed Dreadnought helm symbol, shining in silver. The last figure was a very large, confused looking striped cat near the human. It looked around the bar, panting, before making a murph noise and nuzzling the gloved hand of the human. "Cyrus. Yeah, I'm ready. " She looked around the table reluctantly, before leaving it. "... I think I'm done here." The human ranger nodded stiffly, and glanced at the other sisters. "Are these your...." "Yeah. Miriya of the Whispers, and Sonnya of the Vigil." He nodded to both of them, face neutral, though his eyes caught both of theirs and stared straight through them. "A pleasure to meet you." Tenna paused as she neared Cyrus, and turned to her sisters. "Girls... these are my allies. Cyrus Sigismund, a Ranger, and his cat Dangles... Moryggan Deraleth of the Dawn, a Mesmer." There was a sniff of distaste from the Mesmer, who turned and left the doorway. "And the big one is Verula Faithbreaker, of the Iron Legion, daughter of Perturaba Forgebreaker." Verula just grunted, not saying anything. She turned to look at something outside, and Sonnya could immediately see that the axe on her hip wasn't any normal axe. For one, it had eyes and horns. Three eyes, actually. And it was breathing through a horrifyingly tooth-filled maw. What in the Alchemy is THAT?! She wondered, unable to take her eyes off the living violation strapped to the Charr's hip. Sonnya eyed them, pursing her lips. "So... you know what our sister has...done?" Cyrus nodded slowly. "We don't care. It's not a concern to any of us." "Even if she wants to...." He shrugged. "She brought up the subject. It doesn't matter to Moryggan at all, doesn't concern Verula, and I personally just don't care. What happens happens." "Huh. I see." Cyrus seemed to consider something before looking straight at Sonnya. "...if it will make you relax, you should know that we all take care of each other. When one steps out of line, the others will be there to make sure they step back." Another shrug. "It's how we work. Our balance." "Balance." He nodded, and turned away. "Let's go. We still have to book accomodations for the night." Tenna smiled brightly up at him. "Already done! I booked one of the larger rooms; Normally meant for noble families and their entourage. It'll have a LOT of beds." He smiled back, the stoic demeanor shedding for a moment in a tired smile. "That's great. I hate divvying up bed assignments on the spot." The Charr made a disrespectful snort. "Yeah. Especially when you snore like you do." "You snore louder than me, woman." He retorted, smirking, before they all walked away. Miriya and Sonnya could hear a few more ripostes and some laughter, but it faded quickly. The two sisters stared into their drinks, contemplating everything their little sister had told them. Miriya made a decision and downed the remainder of hers before pushing away from the table. "... I have to go. I have...business in Rata Sum in the morning. I've been expecting some test results back on something...anomalous." Sonnya too, drained her stein, wiping a bit of foam away from her lips. "As do I. Not in Rata Sum though. I have inquiries to make through my contacts. Perhaps I'll look up our sister's companions?..." She cast a raised eyebrow to her necromantic sibling. The necromancer sighed and nodded. "I'll check with my...sources. If I find anything, don't be surprised if you suddenly find a file in your archives that wasn't there a minute ago." She smirked. "Of course, I disavow any knowledge of it, should it turn out to be after-action reports and spy reports from redacted sources known by the Whispers." "I'll be sure to accidentally spill my coffee on it, and then trip on the way past the fireplace." Sonnya replied, leaving her seat and tossing some coin on the table for all their drinks, including Tenna's. "After I read it of course. Might I suggest double-copying the redacted version so that I can't do something silly like remove the black bars covering things like names and such?" "Sounds like a good idea for security." Miriya nodded, smirking. "But since I have NO idea what papers you speak of, and I am merely a humble Pact agent, I'm afraid it's just falling on deaf ears..." "Oh yes, pardon my blathering." Sonnya chuckled and headed outside, giving her sister a final over-the-shoulder wave. "I look forward to finding out who and what our sister's friends truly are."