The commander shuffled through the papers on his desk. There were a number of delegates passing through. Some of them wanting to observe the Wardens, no doubt to see if they were up to the false callings again. It didn't help that they brought a small handful of guards either that he couldn't refuse.
Damn Clarel. That had been a stain on their reputation and he had to rebuild the people's trust in them. With the Hero of Ferelden gone, they had followed her blindly. Now the responsibility was his to bear.
The man pounded his fists on the desk and sighed. Their numbers were small, a good number of the forces had been from Orlais and they had returned. He had only taken a handful of wardens who were willing to leave their posts. Who was the next delegate he had to entertain... A Navarran delegate. Wonderful. Was he going to walk in with a contingent of skeletons?
Damn Clarel. That had been a stain on their reputation and he had to rebuild the people's trust in them. With the Hero of Ferelden gone, they had followed her blindly. Now the responsibility was his to bear.
The man pounded his fists on the desk and sighed. Their numbers were small, a good number of the forces had been from Orlais and they had returned. He had only taken a handful of wardens who were willing to leave their posts. Who was the next delegate he had to entertain... A Navarran delegate. Wonderful. Was he going to walk in with a contingent of skeletons?
The Mortalitasi walked through the hallowed halls of Vigil's Keep. He had heard of its esteem before he left Nevarra; its change in ownership from the Avvar to the Howes and finally the Wardens, though even their ownership might be called into question what with recent events.
Despite his master's eagerness to support the Warden cause, Markvart was still in the fence about it. Their "false calling" was too significant to simply overlook without a thought. What if it happened again? The Inquisition wasn't there to stop them anymore, not with the unfortunate maiming of their Inquisitor. It was simply up to the rest of them now.
Markvart, at last, arrived at the Warden Commander's office after a brisk walk about the keep. It made no sense to stall this meeting any further than it already had been, so he gave a quick few knocks on the door and awaited a response.
Despite his master's eagerness to support the Warden cause, Markvart was still in the fence about it. Their "false calling" was too significant to simply overlook without a thought. What if it happened again? The Inquisition wasn't there to stop them anymore, not with the unfortunate maiming of their Inquisitor. It was simply up to the rest of them now.
Markvart, at last, arrived at the Warden Commander's office after a brisk walk about the keep. It made no sense to stall this meeting any further than it already had been, so he gave a quick few knocks on the door and awaited a response.
Roderick glanced up when a knock was given at the door. There was the occasional Inquisition soldier about the Keep, those who had trouble finding a new place, although they responded to the Warden-Commander now.
"Come in," Roderick said. He'd gesture to the chair opposite him when the Mortalitasi walked in. If there were any blood patches on the man, he'd do his best to ignore them.
"It is a pleasure to have someone from the Mortalitasi to grace my office," the Commander said with a smile as he held out his hand. Though the warmth didn't reach his eyes. He wasn't keen on a necromancer about, but business was business.
"Come in," Roderick said. He'd gesture to the chair opposite him when the Mortalitasi walked in. If there were any blood patches on the man, he'd do his best to ignore them.
"It is a pleasure to have someone from the Mortalitasi to grace my office," the Commander said with a smile as he held out his hand. Though the warmth didn't reach his eyes. He wasn't keen on a necromancer about, but business was business.
Markvart shook the Warden's hand, noticing the facade he was putting on - the coldness of his eyes was just business as usual outside of Nevarra.
"The pleasure is mine, Warden. Apologies for the shoddy display," he said, gesturing to his robes, "my work as a Mortalitasi is often messy; the mummification process is quite thorough after all." The man would no doubt have some disdain towards Markvart's practises, most did, and one could only wonder what he would react like to the Mortalitasi's necromancy.
Unfortunately, the inhabitants of Ferelden, Orlais and the rest of the world don't quite share the Nevarran views of death - a fact he hoped to rectify in the coming months.
"The pleasure is mine, Warden. Apologies for the shoddy display," he said, gesturing to his robes, "my work as a Mortalitasi is often messy; the mummification process is quite thorough after all." The man would no doubt have some disdain towards Markvart's practises, most did, and one could only wonder what he would react like to the Mortalitasi's necromancy.
Unfortunately, the inhabitants of Ferelden, Orlais and the rest of the world don't quite share the Nevarran views of death - a fact he hoped to rectify in the coming months.
Roderick couldn't help but make a quick swipe of his hand on his tunic after he was done shaking the other's hand. It was subtle enough to seem like he was just straightening his outfit but it was more of a reflex than a conscious decision. It was only after he had done it that he realised how offensive it would be but he opted not to bring any attention to it unless the other spoke about it.
"Would you like some tea?" he offered the man, gesturing for him to sit down. "I suppose you have heard of me, Roderick Vimes, although I'm afraid I'm uncertain of how to pronounce your name though I have a letter from your master here... Leitner?" he asked addressing the other by the last name.
"Would you like some tea?" he offered the man, gesturing for him to sit down. "I suppose you have heard of me, Roderick Vimes, although I'm afraid I'm uncertain of how to pronounce your name though I have a letter from your master here... Leitner?" he asked addressing the other by the last name.
"You have the gist of it correct. Unfortunately, Nevarran names seem to elude most."
Markvart sat on the offered chair, dusting off his robes' accumulated grime from both work and travel. "I'd like tea right about now, the road to Ferelden didn't quite have the simple luxuries I'm accustomed to." He observed the Warden-Commander, trying to get a handle on his personality. From what he'd seen, he definitely would have problems with Vimes in the future, given his necromantic profession. Fortunately, his disdain was solely focused on one point rather than having the common fear/hatred for mages in general, what with the Warden being a mage himself.
Markvart sat on the offered chair, dusting off his robes' accumulated grime from both work and travel. "I'd like tea right about now, the road to Ferelden didn't quite have the simple luxuries I'm accustomed to." He observed the Warden-Commander, trying to get a handle on his personality. From what he'd seen, he definitely would have problems with Vimes in the future, given his necromantic profession. Fortunately, his disdain was solely focused on one point rather than having the common fear/hatred for mages in general, what with the Warden being a mage himself.
Roderick looked surprised when he said that he'd like tea about now.
"I had thought you might make yourself comfortable first before visiting, but that's all right. I'll see if I can get some food up from the kitchen for you," he said as he went to get the tea, and some ginger biscuits, placing them on the desk.
"I'm afraid though that you'll find the Keep filled with necessities but not necessarily with luxuries." The Marcher himself considered tea a necessity.. that and there were perks to being the Warden Commander. His salary allowed him the classier blends and it was a lemony one that he poured for Markvart.
Despite his misgivings about the Mortalitasi, he was still hospitable at least.
If Markvart agreed to the food, Roderick would head outside to holler for one of the guards to send word to the kitchen.
Once done, he'd settle down opposite Markvart.
"I don't suppose your master is sending you here just to take a look at the place. You're not the first delegate we've had."
He knew where the wardens stood with a lot of people. A few had sent people to keep an eye on them.
"We have a Tevinter delegate here as well by the name of Lady Selora." The fact that she was an elf was not mentioned.
"I had thought you might make yourself comfortable first before visiting, but that's all right. I'll see if I can get some food up from the kitchen for you," he said as he went to get the tea, and some ginger biscuits, placing them on the desk.
"I'm afraid though that you'll find the Keep filled with necessities but not necessarily with luxuries." The Marcher himself considered tea a necessity.. that and there were perks to being the Warden Commander. His salary allowed him the classier blends and it was a lemony one that he poured for Markvart.
Despite his misgivings about the Mortalitasi, he was still hospitable at least.
If Markvart agreed to the food, Roderick would head outside to holler for one of the guards to send word to the kitchen.
Once done, he'd settle down opposite Markvart.
"I don't suppose your master is sending you here just to take a look at the place. You're not the first delegate we've had."
He knew where the wardens stood with a lot of people. A few had sent people to keep an eye on them.
"We have a Tevinter delegate here as well by the name of Lady Selora." The fact that she was an elf was not mentioned.
"That's a shame..." Markvart replied to the luxury question, his mouth letting a small sigh out.
When the Commander asked about his intentions at Vigil's Keep, he gave a smirk "If I were simply here to have a tour of the keep I would have been long gone already. My master has the impression that the Grey Wardens can still be trusted after that 'false calling' fiasco a while ago; he entrusted me with co-operating with this particular branch of Wardens and inspecting your practices first-hand, just to see if you can, in fact, still be trusted."
When the Commander asked about his intentions at Vigil's Keep, he gave a smirk "If I were simply here to have a tour of the keep I would have been long gone already. My master has the impression that the Grey Wardens can still be trusted after that 'false calling' fiasco a while ago; he entrusted me with co-operating with this particular branch of Wardens and inspecting your practices first-hand, just to see if you can, in fact, still be trusted."
Roderick chuckled as he poured the tea for Markvart. It was good tea, rich in aroma and flavour... and definitely good for keeping one awake as they worked.
"Oh but I'm quite sure we haven't given you a tour of our cellar leading to the Deep Roads where the Darkspawn lurk," he said with a tone suggesting he was joking.
"I appreciate the support your master sees fit to trust us... and what about yourself? Do you trust us?" he asked as he poured a cup of tea himself. There was evidence in the warden commander's eyes that he was tired and wasn't sleeping a healthy amount. But then again he was a Grey Warden and a Mage, and the dreams of Mages were hardly peaceful at times.
He wouldn't really let Markvart answer the question he asked though. "Because if you don't, good. Because our order did do stupid things, and I would be a fool to think people would trust us that easily after the false calling... although I suppose some leeway was given to us by our King."
Their king was a warden after all. Or still was. Once a warden, always a warden. The taint bound them closer to the order than any oath.
"Oh but I'm quite sure we haven't given you a tour of our cellar leading to the Deep Roads where the Darkspawn lurk," he said with a tone suggesting he was joking.
"I appreciate the support your master sees fit to trust us... and what about yourself? Do you trust us?" he asked as he poured a cup of tea himself. There was evidence in the warden commander's eyes that he was tired and wasn't sleeping a healthy amount. But then again he was a Grey Warden and a Mage, and the dreams of Mages were hardly peaceful at times.
He wouldn't really let Markvart answer the question he asked though. "Because if you don't, good. Because our order did do stupid things, and I would be a fool to think people would trust us that easily after the false calling... although I suppose some leeway was given to us by our King."
Their king was a warden after all. Or still was. Once a warden, always a warden. The taint bound them closer to the order than any oath.
Markvart sipped the tea and smiled, "Well at least I know one of you is self-aware enough to see your mistakes for what they were - a catastrophe." He placed his tea onto his lap and continued, "Your order has been around since the First Blight all those centuries ago so I can see why some still cling to the fact that you are heroes like King Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden - but I'm not so easily convinced. I want your Wardens to prove their intentions to me first-hand before my time here has ended, to put Nevarra's mind at ease. Are you capable of that task?"
Markvart knew his question was blunt, but for the sake of Nevarra and his Mortalitasi's sake, he didn't very much care.
Markvart knew his question was blunt, but for the sake of Nevarra and his Mortalitasi's sake, he didn't very much care.
Roderick shook his head a little when the man said he was self aware.
"We're not idiots Leitner... The Inquisition was a stabilising force in a world gone awry. Only the Grey Wardens can end another Blight if it comes. We are a necessity. Perhaps when the last of the Old Gods die then can we truly rest our swords and weapons. As for if we can prove our intentions, I don't just have to prove it to you, or Navarra, just the whole of Ferelden, and maybe Orlais," the commander said with a sigh.
"As for if I'll be up to the task... So far no false calling."
"We're not idiots Leitner... The Inquisition was a stabilising force in a world gone awry. Only the Grey Wardens can end another Blight if it comes. We are a necessity. Perhaps when the last of the Old Gods die then can we truly rest our swords and weapons. As for if we can prove our intentions, I don't just have to prove it to you, or Navarra, just the whole of Ferelden, and maybe Orlais," the commander said with a sigh.
"As for if I'll be up to the task... So far no false calling."
Markvart continued to drink his tea, "Don't dismiss proving yourself to others besides the locals; outside help can be useful in troubled times. I should know, I look to the dead for assistance after all."
After finishing his tea, Markvart stood and patted down his robes, "As for your false calling, avoid it as much as possible. I'd hate to have to perform any mummification rites while I'm here." He conveyed the last sentence with an icy stare. His first and foremost duty whilst at the keep was to ensure the Grey Wardens were trustworthy, and he would do so through any means necessary.
After finishing his tea, Markvart stood and patted down his robes, "As for your false calling, avoid it as much as possible. I'd hate to have to perform any mummification rites while I'm here." He conveyed the last sentence with an icy stare. His first and foremost duty whilst at the keep was to ensure the Grey Wardens were trustworthy, and he would do so through any means necessary.
Roderick chuckled softly. "I'd have to prove with the other wardens that we can still be trusted to everyone."
The man raised an eyebrow as Markvart mentioned having to perform mummification rites. "I won't stop you from performing your duties as a Mortalitasi should someone be willing, but I doubt you'd find anyone willing. Truth be told I half expected you to walk in with a couple of corpses with you when I received your master's letter."
The man raised an eyebrow as Markvart mentioned having to perform mummification rites. "I won't stop you from performing your duties as a Mortalitasi should someone be willing, but I doubt you'd find anyone willing. Truth be told I half expected you to walk in with a couple of corpses with you when I received your master's letter."
"Assumption is the root of all failure, Warden-Commander. Never forget that." He walked over to the door, "It's been a pleasant chat but I have to get my equipment set up for any of those mummifications. Good day Warden."
He opened the door and walked down the hall as the Warden said his farewell.
He opened the door and walked down the hall as the Warden said his farewell.
Roderick raised an eyebrow when Leitner said assumption was the root of all failure. He just kept a stoic expression.
"Good day to you then Leitner," he said closing the door behind Markvart.
"Prick." he muttered under his breath once the door was soundly closed and he was at his desk.
Markvart would find that his room was just, sparse honestly. There was a bed, a book shelf made from wood, and a desk. That was about it. Although there were simple white curtains to stop the insects, and something thicker for winter and to block the sunlight. He'd find himself mostly left to himself unless he approached the other wardens or wanted to accompany wardens on assignments... or he could just explore the Keep.
"Good day to you then Leitner," he said closing the door behind Markvart.
"Prick." he muttered under his breath once the door was soundly closed and he was at his desk.
Markvart would find that his room was just, sparse honestly. There was a bed, a book shelf made from wood, and a desk. That was about it. Although there were simple white curtains to stop the insects, and something thicker for winter and to block the sunlight. He'd find himself mostly left to himself unless he approached the other wardens or wanted to accompany wardens on assignments... or he could just explore the Keep.