illithidnapped

Well— as I said I'm no scholar. [It's like pulling teeth, semantics, but he supposes for the sake of building Thedosian bridges he'll make the barest effort...

Until he doesn't feel like it anymore.]

But it was rumored to be the very body of a particularly powerful goddess. A space between planes of existence, and one that simultaneously flowed into the planes themselves. In fact some argue manipulating magic at all is simply demanding the weave make those desires reality.

Make of that whatever you will.

[A 'ooh' and 'aah' sounds from the other side of the crystal, along with the none too distance scratching sounds of a pen on parchment. The crystal must be sitting on her desk, and Wysteria keeping notes alongside of it.]

And these other planes of existence. How might you describe them?

Very much similar to our own, many of them. As varied as the stars themselves— hm, quite literally, in fact. [The hells he won't mention, cruel as it might be to withhold the strangeness of certain planes, he has a feeling it'll only lead to questions upon questions.

No, they'll stick to the basics for now.]

Why, given the nature of the veil and the division between worlds, it's entirely possible your world is but a fleck of a constellation in the night sky where I'm from, and vice versa.

Yes, given the other answers this survey has received I suspect that may be quite possible.

[But more on that later. She bulldozes onward:]

Happily, that covers a great deal of the rift-related questions I have on the survey. We may circle back to a few other curiosities afterward, but for the sake of completing the paperwork let us proceed to question seven-dash-B. [Dodged at least a five question shaped bullet there, Astarion.]

'Do you have any other abilities, such as mage talent? If so, has the presence of the rift shard or your time in Thedas affected your ability whatsoever (please note whether this is a negative or a positive effect)?' —This ought to consider any physical alterations as well, for what it's worth. They are more rare, but there has been some history of changed forms and so on.

[Whew.]

Well I— [He starts, stops. There's a moment of consideration, where something's weighed in the forefront of his mind: he's been careful to keep his secrets locked close, save for one singularly insistent kindred spirit of sorts (not Astarion's definition, but Fenris' own, recently taken root), and having the concept of vampirism jotted down somewhere in Riftwatch's bookkeeping seems like a recipe for disaster. No. He'll hold that card right against his chest, tucked well out of view for now.

Joking about it is one thing, after all. Filling out a questionnaire? Might as well sign away all believable deniability.] no, I'm afraid.

No skills at all of the sort.

[There is a moment of silence. Perhaps she is writing something down—]

Are you very certain?

[Perhaps not.]

[What is that silence. What is that tone.]

....quite certain.

As I seem to recall overhearing certain claims via the sending crystal when you first introduced yourself.

But perhaps I was mistaken.

Oh you clever little beast.

[Done in by his own handiwork.

Well— wouldn't be the first time.]

Do you always keep one ear attuned to every conversation that crawls its way across our crystals, or was I just your favorite?

You will please mind how you address me, sir, [is a fairly mild correction, heavily leavened by his use of the word 'clever' being first and foremost.]

But yes. I consider my ear generally rather keen, thank you.

Oh I minded it very much. In fact that's why I chose that exact wording, my dear.

[Just for you.]

Anyway, how about a deal? I agree to confess all the...sordid little details of my vampirism, and you agree not to write any of it down in that record or journal— or whatever it is you're no doubt peppering with stolen knowledge.

This is purely between us. Sworn to utmost secrecy.

Very well. You have my most solemn oath that I shall not record any part of it.

Excellent.

Because creatures of the night are quite capable of slithering about wherever they like, rifling easily through secrets kept even under lock and key.

I should hate to think of what might happen if you were deceiving me.

[And then, cheerfully:]

But you aren't. Why, you'd never. No, I can tell already that we're birds of a feather, and there's some sort of relevant saying regarding that which no doubt works to emphasize the bond between us that I deeply feel.

Yes, yes, you are very intimidating. Now if you are quite finished, Mister Astarion—

[Take him seriously Wysteria!!!!]

As you already know, I’m a vampire. Normally we feed on blood to survive— I’ve subsisted solely on animal blood, mind. Never once harmed a thinking person to sate my own appetite.

At any rate, I haven’t felt....thirst since my arrival. In fact I haven’t felt much of anything that should normally be affecting me.

In sunlight, I should be cinders. Running water should be burning me like acid. I don’t even need an invitation to enter homes. On the other end of things I can’t compel someone with a gaze, and for once in my unlife I find myself needing to breathe.

But I’ve still my fangs, and my instincts. And I don’t know if what’s happened to me is only temporary, or...

Well, it’s not important I suppose.

[A better subject:]

Is this all you typically do in a day? Comb the crystals, interrogate fresh souls for an ounce or two of interesting information?

Not at all. I am a dedicated member of the Research division, assistant to the Seneschal [for now; Cassius is going to do her the indignity of firing her shortly] and consultant to Project Felandaris. It is the purview of this last one under which he presently speak, although obviously now I suppose it is only for my own edification given that you have forbid me from reporting the information officially. Have you attempted to drink the blood of any animal since you arrived?

[This question she strings together so smoothly with the great diatribe which preceded it that it may be difficult to realize it is a question at first. But the pause which follows is demandingly expectant.

Well?]

Well aren't you just the most resourceful little thing? And here I thought I was filling out some baseline questionnaire meant to wring out fresh recruits.

No, darling, I have not. And as long as I can get away with it, I don't intend to.

[Somewhere out there, basking in his own fluid attention span, he's setting his chin atop his palm.]

What's the most interesting thing you've ever been told by an interviewee? Recent memory or otherwise.

That Thedas was not the first strange world into which they had fallen, [is her immediate answer, and then she makes a small noise and blurts out an alternative:] And once Mister Stark described dessert coffee, although that was not discussed within the context of the survey.

Why avoid it? Is the drinking of blood very unpleasant? Poor flavor, I suppose.

Coffee? Alternate worlds? Is that really the best of the whole lot?

[As for the rest, consider it audibly sidestepped in favor of his own disappointment. Boo.]

Dessert coffee.

[Boo yourself. That is a most vital distinction.]

Riveting.

[Flattest of the flattest tones ever to be heard.]

I was hoping for something a little more exciting. A little more daring.

...a little more scandalous.

[Her scoff has a certain propulsive quality about it which suggests it must be an impressive thing to witness in person.]

I hardly see how the questions I have proposed to you could really elicit much in the way of scandal. This is not the work of a rumor monger, sir. It is to collect information useful to the study of the nature of Rifters and the anchor.

Oh come on, you’re telling me no one’s confessed to anything beyond the pale? That Thedas only kidnaps the most mundane of travelers to be its stalwart protectors?

No three-headed dragons, no gods, no— [He huffs, sounding completely put out.] I don't know, wild beasts capable of writing sonnets.

Forgive me, sir. [Is that a trace of snobbish bullheadedness? A certain digging in of the heels?

Yes, absolutely.]

But you asked what I had been told in these interviews, not what I knew generally speaking. Surely your own part in this has proven that people, particularly the ones which might have something very interesting to say, have a habit of being rather careful about their choice of words when put into a position where they must confess the thing directly.

Gossip is a very different thing from research, Mister Astarion.

[It pulls from him a soft snort of approval. A delicate, thready sort of sound.]

So you are trustworthy after all.

Of course the downside of that everyone else’s secrets are equally safe from me, but that’s a reality I can live with.

But what about you, my dear? Are you originally from Thedas— or one of our own kidnapped few?

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when you remember dnd influenced like everything including DA lore

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