Politics had never been Zahra's forte, and she hadn't particularly gotten better over the yearsânot even having spent so much time in its midst's, not so long ago when she served the Inquisition. It made her head swim and her skin itch. She felt bad for anyone who had to be subjected to it all the time. Namely: Rom, Khari and Stel. Neither of them seemed to like it but it was a part of the job description. An unfortunate one, though with the support system they'd acquired over the years, it never looked like they struggled to maintain their foothold.
She was proud to call them friends. Though in times like these, she wasn't sure how to make herself useful. Beyond trying to make this thing go as smoothly as possible, which never seemed to happen... all she could do was make it known that she was there, if she was needed. Glancing around the room at the others, it was clear that the negotiations weren't going as well as they hoped they would. Tension hung like a heavy blanket over their hearts. Lips tugged into firm lines. She could feel it. She'd heard how things had been going. It was the waiting that made her squirm. Always had. Sitting in one place, not knowing what was going on was torturous.
She'd perched herself on the corner of a nearby desk. Parchments and books pushed off to the side a little to allow her enough room. Her left leg was crossed over her knee, and her elbow was propped over it, chin resting into an upturned palm. She stared at the opposing wall and narrowed her eyes. Her thoughts whirred with the most recent informationâthough she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. The eluvian. The dead Qunari. Cy... she hated mysteries. There was a pit in her stomach. A curious emptiness. Whatever this was, it was important.
The room itself looked like an office, decorated with chairs, books and the large desk. Large enough to accommodate them all, though it still seemed to feel stuffy. Rilien seemed quiet as ever, possibly plucking up the likeliest scenario in that nogging of his. He'd always reminded her a little of Cyrus. Quick as a crow, with eyes just as sharp. Brand was at his elbow, looking a little grimmer than usual. Marcy and Khari were not far away. While she'd missed them sorely and had been happy to see them, now wasn't the time for reunions.
Rilien's eyes had remained fixed on the door for most of the time they'd been here. Ostensibly, there was a break in the negotiations, but from the hushed tones in which he'd spoken with the Emperor just a few minutes earlier, things were a tad more complicated than that alone.
Khari was a little less quiet, sprawled in a chair with her legs propped up on what was almost certainly an antique coffee table. She looked a little sour; no doubt she'd have preferred to go through the mirror with the others, but it had been important to keep people behind in case of any further developments here. She was the keeper of some little bit of green crystalâapparently it allowed for conversation over long distances. Some sort of magic. Stel had the other, but thus far the connection remained unused.
She sighed deeply for the third time in as many minutes, only to be cut off by a soft knock on the door. Khari straightened in her chair, shooting Rilien a glance.
He, of course, betrayed nothing of any feelings he might have about all this. âEnter."
The door opened to admit a guardsman of stout stature; he glanced once at the assembled and addressed himself to the Tranquil. "Bit of a row going on outside, serah. One of your lot insisting on seeing you. There was a fight with a servant, you see, andâ"
Rilien was moving before the man had a chance to finish, gesturing for the rest to follow him. Lady Marceline would surely be able to handle anything that came up while they dealt with whatever this was. A chance to do something, at the very least.
The guard hustled to catch up with the elf's pace, pointing out the exit they wanted. Khari jogged slightly in their wake, lips curled in a way that suggested she was looking forward to whatever this was about to be. Perhaps the word fight had provoked it.
Their exit put them out in a small courtyard, where another guard, this one in much fancier armor, scowled at two elves. The woman was vaguely recognizable to Zahraâone of those faces you see and don't quite register, but nonetheless feel an indistinct familiarity with later on. From the russet-red and brown she was wearing, she was the Inquisition member. The other oneâthe manâwore the colors of the Winter Palace staff: blue and gold.
No sooner had the group made their entrance than the guard turned his attention to them. "Inquisition? This servant claims your soldier attacked him."
"Bloody hellâI just asked him what he was taking from our supplies. He fell down on his own damn time."
"Slow down, please." Brand's eyes narrowed, moving rapidly for a moment, darting here and there. Taking in details of the scene they'd stumbled on perhaps. He had a quick mind, Zahra knew, quicker than his tongue even, though he seemed to know when to hold that, too. He looked to the servant. "You first. What's your name, what were you doing, and what happened to you?"
The man looked a bit surprised to be addressed by another elf instead of one of the humans now on the scene, but he cleared his throat, tugging self-consciously on his tunic sleeves. "I'm Orrin. I was moving the barrels of the supply wagon like the manifest said, when this woman comes out of nowhere and gets up on my face. Says I'm stealing Inquisition property and tries to take it off me." His mouth dropped into a frown, as though he were affronted by the very notion. Zahra had seen enough of servants to know that some of them took a great deal of pride in and responsibility for their work.
Rilien folded his hands into his sleeves, addressing the Inquisition soldier. âAnd you?"
"Ilya, serah. I dunno the first thing about any shipping manifests, but I doubt any of them call for stashing these things in random storage rooms. Looked bloody suspicious to me, but then he got all defensive about it not being my business. Seemed like my business what some Orlesian was doing with anything off the Inquisition carts."
The barrel at issue still sat between them, more properly an earthenware vessel, sealed at the top with cork and wax. Rope had been tied around the middle to make it easier to lift; it almost looked too heavy for the likes of Orrin to be lifting.
Zahra idly scratched at her jawline as she inspected the earthenware vase settled between the two in questionâdidn't look like anything out of the ordinary, though she wasn't exactly sure what the Inquisition had brought here, either. She squinted her eyes at Orrin and took a step to his side, rounding until she stood in front of the vase. She'd never been a very good judge of character, if the people she usually dealt with were anything to go by... but the lad had an honest look about him. Shoulders squared off. Offended.
Of course, it could've been a ploy. Or maybe, he'd been doing something he wasn't even aware of. Orders were orders, and servants were meant to follow them without question. Maybe Ilya's gut-feeling to check out what was being moved hadn't been completey unfounded. "We best take a look at the manifest then." She arched a thick eyebrow at them and turned her attention back to the vase, digging her fingers under the lip of wax until she could properly wiggle the cork off.
The smell greeted her first, assailing her nostrils. Pungent. She wrinkled her nose, and felt her eyes starting to water. Unexpectedly strong. Zahra slid the cork over a few inches so that she could see what was inside. No doubt everyone else could smell whatever it was by this point, too. She glanced up at Ril, still keeping hold of the cork so that it covered half of the opening. "Powder? I donât know."
Maybe he'd have a better idea.
Rilien stepped forward, showing no sign of being bothered by the odor. It was mostly strong charcoal, and maybe a few notes of rotten eggs. Sharp, though. He ran two fingers along the inside lip of the vessel, smearing the dark grey substance over his fingertips with his thumb when he drew them out again. A tiny line appeared between his brow, and he gripped the vessel by the neck, tilting it sideways so a small amount of the powder spilled out into the grass.
âMove the pot away." He pointed at a spot a considerable distance from them, and Khari obliged, helping Zahra lift the clay vessel well clear of the area. Rilien motioned for everyone else to back away from the area, though the guard and both elves angled themselves to see what he was doing anyway. Withdrawing one of the knives from their sheaths at his waist, Rilien took a piece of flint from... somewhere else and struck the two against one another, throwing several sparks down onto the powder and taking a step back.
The result was instantaneous. Bright fire, in a plume about half a foot high, flashed, eating through the powder on the ground and leaving a heavy scorch mark in the grass. âThis is gaatlok. Qunari explosives."
There was a brief moment of surprise at the flash of light caused by the explosive powder, but when it passed, Brand was the first to notice that the servant elf, Orrin, was no longer with them. "Hey, wait!" He took off at a run after him before the elf could slip out of sight entirely. Brand was short and not especially athletic, though, making his chances of catching the suspect middling at best.
While the explosion hadnât been expected, it was Brandâs exclamation that forced Zahra into motion before she even had a chance to question what was happening. That wee bastard was running away. So much for an honest face. She huffed a breath and pumped her legs harder, breaking into a sprint, curls flying. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She passed Brand and felt herself gaining on the elf.
The distance shortened between them until she could reach out a hand and try to grab onto the back of his shirt. Close. So close. Her fingers clawed at the air, and then she felt her foot drop. Momentary panic filled her. Then, confusion. Sheâd been so focused on his retreating back and the zigzagging of ridiculous courtyard statues and shrubs, that she hadnât noticed that the path she was running down dropped into a rectangular pool. A fountain. With lily-pads, flowers.
Heâd obviously known it was there, because he was in the process of jumping while she staggered and fell. Her hand dropped lower, and she tried to grab at his wrist instead. Her fingers didnât close around him at all, though she felt something entirely different in her hand. Felt something rip, rather than heard it. The water splashed around her as she lost her momentum and sailed clear out of the pond, catching herself on a nearby pillar.
She spotted Orrin disappearing through a door. Fuck. She huffed and leaned bodily into the pillar, trying to catch her breath. Trying to find him in a place like this would be a pain. She scrunched her eyebrows together, and turned over the thing crumpled in her hand. A piece of paper. Torn in half. Pushing herself away from the pillar, she began her trek back to the others. Her mouth twisted into a small smile, half embarrassed. Her sopping boots squished as she walked. âCouldnât catch him either,â she breathed out through her nose, and lifted the piece of paper, flapping it in the air, âlooks like one half of the manifest.â
Rilien, as unruffled as ever, took it from her and smoothed it out with his hands, eyes scanning quickly down the list she'd retrieved. âIt would appear that at least six barrels of this type came in with the Inquisition's supplies." He paused a moment, letting that sink in, then immediately turned to Brand. âGet as many agents together as you can. Search for these barrels. Remain beneath notice."
Shifting his attention to Khari, he continued. âContact Estella. If the Qunari have access to eluvians, there could be more of these anywhere. We need to know where, before they are used." When she'd nodded and turned away, Rilien's attention landed last of all on Zahra. âWe need to find Orrin."
Qunari explosives, eluvian mirrors, and one dead Qunari. How many people were involved? How had the vases even been smuggled into the Inquisition's supplies? The implications made her head spin. But they didn't have time to speculate, not if whatever plan had already been set into motion.
Zahra nodded and inclined her head towards the small pond she'd been unfortunate enough to step in. "He went this way."
She was proud to call them friends. Though in times like these, she wasn't sure how to make herself useful. Beyond trying to make this thing go as smoothly as possible, which never seemed to happen... all she could do was make it known that she was there, if she was needed. Glancing around the room at the others, it was clear that the negotiations weren't going as well as they hoped they would. Tension hung like a heavy blanket over their hearts. Lips tugged into firm lines. She could feel it. She'd heard how things had been going. It was the waiting that made her squirm. Always had. Sitting in one place, not knowing what was going on was torturous.
She'd perched herself on the corner of a nearby desk. Parchments and books pushed off to the side a little to allow her enough room. Her left leg was crossed over her knee, and her elbow was propped over it, chin resting into an upturned palm. She stared at the opposing wall and narrowed her eyes. Her thoughts whirred with the most recent informationâthough she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. The eluvian. The dead Qunari. Cy... she hated mysteries. There was a pit in her stomach. A curious emptiness. Whatever this was, it was important.
The room itself looked like an office, decorated with chairs, books and the large desk. Large enough to accommodate them all, though it still seemed to feel stuffy. Rilien seemed quiet as ever, possibly plucking up the likeliest scenario in that nogging of his. He'd always reminded her a little of Cyrus. Quick as a crow, with eyes just as sharp. Brand was at his elbow, looking a little grimmer than usual. Marcy and Khari were not far away. While she'd missed them sorely and had been happy to see them, now wasn't the time for reunions.
Rilien's eyes had remained fixed on the door for most of the time they'd been here. Ostensibly, there was a break in the negotiations, but from the hushed tones in which he'd spoken with the Emperor just a few minutes earlier, things were a tad more complicated than that alone.
Khari was a little less quiet, sprawled in a chair with her legs propped up on what was almost certainly an antique coffee table. She looked a little sour; no doubt she'd have preferred to go through the mirror with the others, but it had been important to keep people behind in case of any further developments here. She was the keeper of some little bit of green crystalâapparently it allowed for conversation over long distances. Some sort of magic. Stel had the other, but thus far the connection remained unused.
She sighed deeply for the third time in as many minutes, only to be cut off by a soft knock on the door. Khari straightened in her chair, shooting Rilien a glance.
He, of course, betrayed nothing of any feelings he might have about all this. âEnter."
The door opened to admit a guardsman of stout stature; he glanced once at the assembled and addressed himself to the Tranquil. "Bit of a row going on outside, serah. One of your lot insisting on seeing you. There was a fight with a servant, you see, andâ"
Rilien was moving before the man had a chance to finish, gesturing for the rest to follow him. Lady Marceline would surely be able to handle anything that came up while they dealt with whatever this was. A chance to do something, at the very least.
The guard hustled to catch up with the elf's pace, pointing out the exit they wanted. Khari jogged slightly in their wake, lips curled in a way that suggested she was looking forward to whatever this was about to be. Perhaps the word fight had provoked it.
Their exit put them out in a small courtyard, where another guard, this one in much fancier armor, scowled at two elves. The woman was vaguely recognizable to Zahraâone of those faces you see and don't quite register, but nonetheless feel an indistinct familiarity with later on. From the russet-red and brown she was wearing, she was the Inquisition member. The other oneâthe manâwore the colors of the Winter Palace staff: blue and gold.
No sooner had the group made their entrance than the guard turned his attention to them. "Inquisition? This servant claims your soldier attacked him."
"Bloody hellâI just asked him what he was taking from our supplies. He fell down on his own damn time."
"Slow down, please." Brand's eyes narrowed, moving rapidly for a moment, darting here and there. Taking in details of the scene they'd stumbled on perhaps. He had a quick mind, Zahra knew, quicker than his tongue even, though he seemed to know when to hold that, too. He looked to the servant. "You first. What's your name, what were you doing, and what happened to you?"
The man looked a bit surprised to be addressed by another elf instead of one of the humans now on the scene, but he cleared his throat, tugging self-consciously on his tunic sleeves. "I'm Orrin. I was moving the barrels of the supply wagon like the manifest said, when this woman comes out of nowhere and gets up on my face. Says I'm stealing Inquisition property and tries to take it off me." His mouth dropped into a frown, as though he were affronted by the very notion. Zahra had seen enough of servants to know that some of them took a great deal of pride in and responsibility for their work.
Rilien folded his hands into his sleeves, addressing the Inquisition soldier. âAnd you?"
"Ilya, serah. I dunno the first thing about any shipping manifests, but I doubt any of them call for stashing these things in random storage rooms. Looked bloody suspicious to me, but then he got all defensive about it not being my business. Seemed like my business what some Orlesian was doing with anything off the Inquisition carts."
The barrel at issue still sat between them, more properly an earthenware vessel, sealed at the top with cork and wax. Rope had been tied around the middle to make it easier to lift; it almost looked too heavy for the likes of Orrin to be lifting.
Zahra idly scratched at her jawline as she inspected the earthenware vase settled between the two in questionâdidn't look like anything out of the ordinary, though she wasn't exactly sure what the Inquisition had brought here, either. She squinted her eyes at Orrin and took a step to his side, rounding until she stood in front of the vase. She'd never been a very good judge of character, if the people she usually dealt with were anything to go by... but the lad had an honest look about him. Shoulders squared off. Offended.
Of course, it could've been a ploy. Or maybe, he'd been doing something he wasn't even aware of. Orders were orders, and servants were meant to follow them without question. Maybe Ilya's gut-feeling to check out what was being moved hadn't been completey unfounded. "We best take a look at the manifest then." She arched a thick eyebrow at them and turned her attention back to the vase, digging her fingers under the lip of wax until she could properly wiggle the cork off.
The smell greeted her first, assailing her nostrils. Pungent. She wrinkled her nose, and felt her eyes starting to water. Unexpectedly strong. Zahra slid the cork over a few inches so that she could see what was inside. No doubt everyone else could smell whatever it was by this point, too. She glanced up at Ril, still keeping hold of the cork so that it covered half of the opening. "Powder? I donât know."
Maybe he'd have a better idea.
Rilien stepped forward, showing no sign of being bothered by the odor. It was mostly strong charcoal, and maybe a few notes of rotten eggs. Sharp, though. He ran two fingers along the inside lip of the vessel, smearing the dark grey substance over his fingertips with his thumb when he drew them out again. A tiny line appeared between his brow, and he gripped the vessel by the neck, tilting it sideways so a small amount of the powder spilled out into the grass.
âMove the pot away." He pointed at a spot a considerable distance from them, and Khari obliged, helping Zahra lift the clay vessel well clear of the area. Rilien motioned for everyone else to back away from the area, though the guard and both elves angled themselves to see what he was doing anyway. Withdrawing one of the knives from their sheaths at his waist, Rilien took a piece of flint from... somewhere else and struck the two against one another, throwing several sparks down onto the powder and taking a step back.
The result was instantaneous. Bright fire, in a plume about half a foot high, flashed, eating through the powder on the ground and leaving a heavy scorch mark in the grass. âThis is gaatlok. Qunari explosives."
There was a brief moment of surprise at the flash of light caused by the explosive powder, but when it passed, Brand was the first to notice that the servant elf, Orrin, was no longer with them. "Hey, wait!" He took off at a run after him before the elf could slip out of sight entirely. Brand was short and not especially athletic, though, making his chances of catching the suspect middling at best.
While the explosion hadnât been expected, it was Brandâs exclamation that forced Zahra into motion before she even had a chance to question what was happening. That wee bastard was running away. So much for an honest face. She huffed a breath and pumped her legs harder, breaking into a sprint, curls flying. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She passed Brand and felt herself gaining on the elf.
The distance shortened between them until she could reach out a hand and try to grab onto the back of his shirt. Close. So close. Her fingers clawed at the air, and then she felt her foot drop. Momentary panic filled her. Then, confusion. Sheâd been so focused on his retreating back and the zigzagging of ridiculous courtyard statues and shrubs, that she hadnât noticed that the path she was running down dropped into a rectangular pool. A fountain. With lily-pads, flowers.
Heâd obviously known it was there, because he was in the process of jumping while she staggered and fell. Her hand dropped lower, and she tried to grab at his wrist instead. Her fingers didnât close around him at all, though she felt something entirely different in her hand. Felt something rip, rather than heard it. The water splashed around her as she lost her momentum and sailed clear out of the pond, catching herself on a nearby pillar.
She spotted Orrin disappearing through a door. Fuck. She huffed and leaned bodily into the pillar, trying to catch her breath. Trying to find him in a place like this would be a pain. She scrunched her eyebrows together, and turned over the thing crumpled in her hand. A piece of paper. Torn in half. Pushing herself away from the pillar, she began her trek back to the others. Her mouth twisted into a small smile, half embarrassed. Her sopping boots squished as she walked. âCouldnât catch him either,â she breathed out through her nose, and lifted the piece of paper, flapping it in the air, âlooks like one half of the manifest.â
Rilien, as unruffled as ever, took it from her and smoothed it out with his hands, eyes scanning quickly down the list she'd retrieved. âIt would appear that at least six barrels of this type came in with the Inquisition's supplies." He paused a moment, letting that sink in, then immediately turned to Brand. âGet as many agents together as you can. Search for these barrels. Remain beneath notice."
Shifting his attention to Khari, he continued. âContact Estella. If the Qunari have access to eluvians, there could be more of these anywhere. We need to know where, before they are used." When she'd nodded and turned away, Rilien's attention landed last of all on Zahra. âWe need to find Orrin."
Qunari explosives, eluvian mirrors, and one dead Qunari. How many people were involved? How had the vases even been smuggled into the Inquisition's supplies? The implications made her head spin. But they didn't have time to speculate, not if whatever plan had already been set into motion.
Zahra nodded and inclined her head towards the small pond she'd been unfortunate enough to step in. "He went this way."