HUMAN
“ "Trapped in a prism, in a prism of light, alone in the darkness, darkness of white" ”
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Post by FELIX ANKOR on May 22, 2014 22:51:34 GMT
"WHEN LOGIC AND PROPORTION HAVE FALLEN SLOPPY DEAD." Here Felix was, on "official business", at least that's the excuse he gave anyone questioning his abrupt leave. It wasn't uncommon for him to get called away for Templar business. This however, was an entirely different reason, this was personal. Enough for Felix to shed his normally bulky Templar armor for something more discreet, only the emblem hung from his neck, proclaiming his profession. He felt almost like a Seeker of Truth, the irony was he had no intention of joining them. This man had killed some of the best Templars he had known, including a friend. Blood magic was frowned upon,and especially despised by Felix,this man would be brought to justice, whoever he was. Although the Circle of Magi had been disbanded, and almost every record and phylactery destroyed, there was still some clues as to his mystery mage. The mage in question was nameless as of now, but he had a lead. The mage in question aroused suspicion because he fought against the Archdemon, and "died" but he had heard of suspicious mage activity of someone who resembled the appearance of the dead "hero", not a confirmed blood mage, but it was definitely an interesting lead. He had been his own person information brokers, something that no one would expect of someone as straight forward as Felix. He had found a lead, tracking a mage who looked like the mage Felix was looking for. His last reports had abruptly ended in Denerim, it was entirely possible that his mystery mage had either dispatched of his broker, or hired the broker for themselves.. He had found his way into the Gnawed Noble Tavern, the best place to get information. It was particularly busy today as he approached the bartender ordering an Ale, as was customary of anyone about to go delving for some secret information. As a Templar his senses were finely tuned to magical powers, and he felt it now, just the faintest hint. He disregarded it, his focus was on one mage only. If the broker had changed allegiances and the Mage knew exactly where he was, it would be foolish of him to try to observe Felix, if even the slightest suspicion was aroused, Felix would attack like a Mabari warhound. mark amell |
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Post by mark amell on May 25, 2014 22:23:43 GMT
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mark had never joined any of the mage fraternities while he had been a legitimate circle mage himself, but he did attend some of their roundtable discussions every now and then as an observer. sometimes he watched just to watch good friends tear at each others' throats in the interest of aggressive politics. other times, the mages did have something interesting to contribute. overall, the latter was rare. mark probably came for the free weak wine. yes, definitely the wine.
the wine with the pricetag that he can't afford anymore ever since becoming an apostate who was losing money fast. for the maker's sake, he highly doubts that what he's drinking is even watered down ale at best. maybe he should think about making a name for himself inside the tevinter imperium after all, but that would require a generous sponsor at the very least. those didn't come cheap. no real power ever did.
mark sits at the table with little knowledge of anything that was really going on around him except for a few games of wicked grace that he had been interested in observing.
"bad play, my friend" admonished mark, chuckling at the player's impending loss. he considered himself quite an apt player himself, but mark never did make bets when he could not afford to play. that would be an elementary mistake for apprentices.
"oh, why don't you try then, if you think that you're so dammed clever" the ranger throws down his losing cards along with a bit of silver and stomps out angrily.
"hmm...we seem to be lacking enough players for that sort of thing" he hums cheerfully. "maybe, if a gentleman or a lady would like to supplement our numbers" he catches the eye of a particular white-haired man in the tavern. he does not miss the bauble around his neck. "perhaps he would like to join us, friendless and alone as he seems?" he could never resist jibing a templar. this could get interesting.
FELIX ANKOR |  |
coded by electric of gs |
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HUMAN
“ "Trapped in a prism, in a prism of light, alone in the darkness, darkness of white" ”
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Post by FELIX ANKOR on May 28, 2014 22:33:28 GMT
"WHEN LOGIC AND PROPORTION HAVE FALLEN SLOPPY DEAD." Felix caught the eye of a younger black haired man, his eye's were of stone cold disinterest, he didn't even bother listening to whatever conversations were going on. Only when he was directly addressed did Felix make any movement. He walked over to the table, his movements were stiff and regimented. Even without wearing Templars clothing, one could easily notice that he could be no other. His Frost Blue eyes locked with the other male, the one who had beckoned him over. Another one of the men seems to put up his guard ever so subtly, moving his hands to a less vulnerable position. Felix towered over the younger boy for a second, before pulling a chair and sitting down. Something was off about the other boy, but for now he would play, learn a little, and possibly siphon some information out of them. "Felix." It was abrupt, and the most information he would give about himself. His eyes never left the other males. He was looking for a weakness, something that could make him a target for information. A crack in his personality, perhaps. Felix found intimidation the best way to separate the small fry's the sharks. He pushed a gold coin forward, the most expensive thing some of these people had seen. "If I win, I get information. If you win, you get my gold. Deal?" Not much of a question, more of an order. He'd play by these street rats rules, as long as he got something valuable out of it. Something about the black haired man seemed to throw Konrad off. It was almost as if he was familiar. "Someone deal the cards."mark amell |
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Post by mark amell on May 29, 2014 22:05:54 GMT
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"oh? don't you know, wicked grace is a two player game." the ranger is already stomping off to get himself a drink after throwing his cards all over the table in frustration. "the guy i just lost to won't play against mark-- mark is way penniless. and he can't play wicked grace against himself even if he could afford to" true to his word, the winner of the last round collects his silver and walks off.
mark grins. "peace, briar. i can hardly place my secrets in the betting pool if you hand them to every potential player, can i?"
briar snorts. "secrets, my ass. everyone knows your name around here. dunno why anyone's even asking you for information. unless you're some kind of orlesian spy!" he laughs at his own joke.
"oh yes, that must be it. i am sure that the orlesians have plenty of cause to be poking around denerim while their civil war burns. " it wasn't even a funny joke. no discretion whatsoever. nevertheless, it raised an interesting question that the mage had already considered. why him? mark bore no traditional symbols of status. like a pair of decent shoes for one.
mark gathers the cards from the table and discreetly marks certain ones with his mana signature. a few cards turn a couple of degrees colder than the rest of the stack, although it probably would not have been to anyone who was unfamiliar with his magic, or anyone who did not expect it.
he's had more than a couple of sovereigns at a time, of course, but that occurrence was not common. already, mark is thinking about the loaves of bread that he could probably buy. stealing was always possible of course, but any free apostate learned to value discretion.
he has his secrets of course, but much of it held very little value to him. when mark had little to lose but his own life and freedom, everything else seemed cheap.
"would you like to shuffle the cards?" he offers the stack cordially.
(note: i...don't think that templars can sense mages, period?)
FELIX ANKOR | |
coded by electric of gs |
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HUMAN
“ "Trapped in a prism, in a prism of light, alone in the darkness, darkness of white" ”
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Post by FELIX ANKOR on May 31, 2014 6:36:29 GMT
[ "WHEN LOGIC AND PROPORTION HAVE FALLEN SLOPPY DEAD." He didn't care for petty banter, Felix was an official man, he did his business and didn't delay with any small talk. He did hear the other man's joke, and for a second the stern man, smiled. As soon as it appeared it was gone, Felix found very few things amusing, but crude and direct insults seem to be one of those things. Felix had chosen this target mainly because of his arrogance, someone with that sly smile wasn't winning his games legitimately. So of course Felix would find a way to exploit the cockiness and get the answers he wanted. "My name is Felix."Felix took the cards, and with the experience of a card shark, began shuffling. Every card came into his touch at least once while he was shuffling. He dealt 5 cards to his opponent and gave himself 5 cards. His first hand was a middling hand, 2 knights and 3 serpents. He would let his opponent take the first turn, he would wait, watch, and find if the other man had a good enough poker face. It would be reasonably for Felix to banter at this point on time, maybe learn something without winning first. "What brings you to Denerim?" Felix's tone did not change even slightly, the same cold tone rang throughout his words, it was almost as if he was devoid of emotion. Nothing phased him, he was here to find his mystery mage, and Felix felt this Black Haired man would know something. It was rare for him to trust his instincts, but something about the man just set him off. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it, the same feeling had occurred when Felix was shuffling the deck, something just felt very wrong. ((Also do you think Templar Magic nullification would work on touch? That's why I had him touch every card, to throw Mark off his game. IDK if they have to be concentrating to nullify small time magic like that. Feel free to disregard or acknowledge it in yo post}} mark amell |
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