Salad of doom

Ailwin pushed open the heavy wooden door of the gambling den, the familiar creak of its hinges a welcome sound after the long and arduous day he’d had. The smoky atmosphere, the low murmur of conversation, and the clinking of glasses created a comforting ambiance that felt like home. He scanned the room briefly, noting the usual mix of patrons engrossed in their games, before making his way to the bar.

He stepped behind the bar with the ease of someone who belonged there, grabbing a clean glass and pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, catching the dim light as he lifted it to his lips and took a slow, satisfying sip. The warmth spread through him, easing the tension from his shoulders. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, but did enjoy a bit now and again, especially after a long day.

Leaning against the bar, Ailwin allowed himself a moment to reflect on the day's events. Meeting with the contact had been fruitful, and the funding issues that had plagued them for weeks were finally on their way to being resolved. It had taken every ounce of his negotiating, but the deal was done. They’d have the resources they needed to keep their operations running smoothly, especially if they were going to expand.

He glanced around the room again, his eyes searching for Katrien. She was supposed to meet him here, and he was eager to discuss the latest developments. Their partnership was the backbone of the Forsaken, each of them bringing unique strengths to the table. Ailwin valued her sharp mind and unwavering loyalty, knowing that together, they could navigate any challenge that came their way.

As he waited, he thought about their journey so far. The Forsaken had come a long way, from a ragtag group of misfits to a formidable organization. It hadn’t been easy, and there were still many obstacles ahead, but Ailwin felt a renewed sense of purpose. With the new funding, they could expand their influence, secure their stronghold, and protect those who relied on them. He nodded to the bartender and mentioned to tell Katrien he’d be in the back office when she arrived, and then headed into it to update their ledgers. Mr. Dribbles trailing behind Ailwin.

@Katrien

Katrien wandered down the narrow ally and let herself in, stopping just over the threshold to enjoy the change in atmosphere. Val Royeaux was tense, gossip and conjecture filled the air wherever the battered populace could safely gather.

Such places were few and far between, just now. Kat had worn herself out walking a circuit between them all, invisible as only a cityborn elf could be. The mood here, though? Completely different. Their members and clients trusted Ailwin to steer through the doom facing Orlais. Why not? He’d led them this far – and kept them in coin enough not to starve. They were doing better business than most.

Those same people, of course, brought Katrien their worries when they thought their fellows weren’t looking. It was a little unfair, but she preferred it this way. Ailwin’s distance had value too.

When it was time to make an unpopular announcement, for one. A mysterious genius could get away with a quick disappearance – she’d be arguing all night long. Assuming, of course, that she could convince him.

Katrien hurried along to meet with Ailwin in his office, sparing the cat a glance and a nod. Mr. Dribbles had been with them so long, it only felt right. A triumvirate, of sorts. Unfortunately, Lornan didn’t seem to be in.

“I think we had better move up our timeline, Winnie.” Kat dropped into the chair across from the desk. “They say the wards are getting weaker. And no one’s been in or out of the palace in four days.”

@Ailwin

Ailwin's gaze didn’t lift from the ledger as Katrien spoke. He continued writing, his movements methodical, as if her words were just another item on a long list of tasks. When she finished, he finally capped the inkwell and leaned back in his chair, his eyes cold and calculating.

So, the palace goes dark, the wards start failing, and now you want to move up the timeline? His tone was serious, someone who didn’t know him well might think he was being sarcastic, but sarcasm didn’t come easy to Ailwin. Sounds like a perfect storm of chaos. Just what we needed.

He stood up, the chair scraping against the floor, and began pacing, the tension in his movements coiled tight. If we move now, we’re playing a game with pieces we haven’t even seen yet. Our contacts in the Free Marches aren’t nearly where I was hoping they would be. The original plan was slow, methodical. But sitting on our hands while the wards crumble isn’t an option either. We need every advantage, every piece of information, or we’re just gambling with lives—and I don’t like those odds. At first moving into the Free Marches had been simply an ambitious expansion plan, but now it seemed it would be a full blown move.

Ailwin stopped and fixed Katrien with a piercing stare. We’re going to reinforce our defenses, double our patrols, and get eyes inside that palace, one way or another. I don’t care if we have to bribe, blackmail, or break someone’s arm. We need intel, and we need it yesterday.

He moved closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. As for the rest, I’ll put together a plan. We’ll present it to the others, make sure they’re in line. But understand this, Katrien: If we’re moving up the timeline, there’s no room for mistakes. One misstep, and it’s not just our operation that falls apart. It’s everything we’ve worked for. She knew the stakes, but he felt obliged to say the words out loud.

Ailwin leaned back, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. Convincing me might be the easy part, but convincing the rest? That’s where it gets interesting. And you know how much I enjoy a challenge.

@Katrien