There is something to be said for anyone recognizably aligned with Riftwatch when it comes to larger incidents. Political mostly. Not the sort of work for you and I. [Though who can really say if that'll prove true overall, given the sort of ties Fenris nursed along in the past. Even he might get roped into negotiations here or there somewhere along the way, Astarion supposes.]
Sometimes in dealings with refugees there’s a sliver of gratitude to be found, if you value the opinions of the poor. [Astarion, for the record, does not.]
But otherwise— no. Outside the Gallows, we’re just pretty faces amongst an overly bitter crowd: the guards here in Kirkwall won’t look the other way if you start making too much trouble; locals might spit on you as much as they’ll let you pass by unbothered, depending on the time of day. No discounts, no local favors, and—
Well. Always better to err on the side of caution, especially when you’re sent abroad on missions.
We’re not the Inquisition, from what I've gathered: we’re misfits floating our efforts between countries infinitely larger than our own collective, and we don’t have the weight of any Maker behind us.
[His exhale is low. Stare drifting from the sharp lines of Fenris’ profile out towards the city itself.
He doesn't need to ask after it to feel the tinge of discomfort dwelling there.]
People do seem to forget their chosen champions all too quickly. Ungrateful things that they are.
no subject
There is something to be said for anyone recognizably aligned with Riftwatch when it comes to larger incidents. Political mostly. Not the sort of work for you and I. [Though who can really say if that'll prove true overall, given the sort of ties Fenris nursed along in the past. Even he might get roped into negotiations here or there somewhere along the way, Astarion supposes.]
Sometimes in dealings with refugees there’s a sliver of gratitude to be found, if you value the opinions of the poor. [Astarion, for the record, does not.]
But otherwise— no. Outside the Gallows, we’re just pretty faces amongst an overly bitter crowd: the guards here in Kirkwall won’t look the other way if you start making too much trouble; locals might spit on you as much as they’ll let you pass by unbothered, depending on the time of day. No discounts, no local favors, and—
Well. Always better to err on the side of caution, especially when you’re sent abroad on missions.
We’re not the Inquisition, from what I've gathered: we’re misfits floating our efforts between countries infinitely larger than our own collective, and we don’t have the weight of any Maker behind us.
[His exhale is low. Stare drifting from the sharp lines of Fenris’ profile out towards the city itself.
He doesn't need to ask after it to feel the tinge of discomfort dwelling there.]
People do seem to forget their chosen champions all too quickly. Ungrateful things that they are.