Sisters of Tevinter

The Winter Palace

  Jor could only watch as the steps to the palace entrance loomed closer. Here, she'd be protecting the Empress of Orlais. Preventing that horrible future, orchestrating (hopefully) the beginning of peace. Somehow. It was only a matter of learning the identity of the Empress' would-be assassin, who had hired them, and who was hoping to seize the throne. 

   Heh. Easy. The Inquisitor sighed, the night air was balmy and soothing. The eyes of the Old Gods twinkled down at her encouragingly. She'd tackled demons, what was so scary about a couple of back stabbing nobles in masks?

   "Lady Inquisitor." 

   That! Jor jumped, scowling slightly as she turned. She was being approached from across the courtyard by a man in a fine silk suit and silver medallions over the velvet mantle on his shoulders. He wore a mask that obscured most of his dark stubbled face, beaten silver shaped with eyes and a sharp, pointed and puppet-like nose. He had a stubborn air of self importance to him and the stance of a military man. He smiled amicably, his Orlesian accent layered and heady. "Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalon. I had hoped to see you here." 

    Suspect number one. The duke, covertly leading the Orlesian army. Jor gave a soft, accepting smile. "Good evening, your grace." 

    Neither of them bowed. Gaspard only beamed. "It is a lovely evening, yes. You've come with many allies." 

    "Advisors, entourage, nothing concerning, I hope. There will be enough food, won't there?" This smile was a little more real. 

   Gaspard gave a short bark of laughter. "I'm sure. It is good to see you've come prepared for anything. I believe we can help each other." 

   "Oh? Do go on." 

   He lowered his voice slightly. "I am certain we are here for the same thing. To keep Orlais' best interests at heart. Now the Empress, Maker bless her, has surrounded herself with untrustworthy council." 

    Jor frowned, as if this news surprised her. Yeah. You. "You have my ear." 

    He seemed to relax slightly then, stepping closer so they would not be overheard. "You know this ridiculous party is a front for the peace talks. I will tell you now, it is not those in front of you that are the greatest threat. Those that polish vases have good ears. Pointed ears even. The elven servants here are organized. I believe they are beginning some kind of uprising. They'd like nothing better than to see the Empress dead."

   Oh, so you're just insane. Jor's expression remained carefully neutral. "I see." 

   "They have a ringleader, she calls herself Briala." Gaspard scowled. "She will attempt to disrupt the negotiations." 

    "You're certain?"

    "She is a spy and a snake. You must understand the threat she poses to the crown." 

    Jor nodded slowly, turning the idea over in her mind. Perhaps. "I am here to observe, to protect. I hear your advice and I will take it to heart. Your negotiations will not be interrupted."

     Gaspard smiled slightly. "You are a woman of reason after all." He tipped his head in the direction of the entrance as he turned to leave. "I will see you inside." 

   Yes. You will. Jor gave him a polite nod and watched him go. He didn't seem like a mastermind, that was for certain. He was a soldier. Identify the threat and neutralize it, that seemed to be his way of thinking. Even so, an ambitious soldier-- or a frightened one-- can be as dangerous as any mage or criminal. 

    Jor ascended the stairs slowly, mindful of her skirt. Entering the wide, high ceilinged vestibule, she was struck by a wall of sound and illumination. White marble walls, every available surface was gilded in gold. More stairs swooped upward to a set of heavy oak double doors.