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Paper dust and crinkling pages brought bittersweet memories: of Cloud Ruler Temple, its rich woods and stones. The smiles and frowns of his Blades, worried for their emperor, the taxing work of deciphering the Mysterium Xarxes taking its toll.

Martin, unlike Nathaniel, accustomed himself to the layout of the library the day of his arrival. It was hard, to keep his emotions hidden behind cheer and decorum, the facade of a healer-priest, not the (ex) emperor who sacrificed himself so his people would have a chance. Tamriel is safe, Martin knows it, but how, why is he alive?

These are answers he seeks inside books. Perhaps it's naive, or conceited, to think that this library would know or care about his realm and his struggle. Even when he was younger, just an ambitious mage with no title or duty, Martin searched for answers in libraries, not from people. It was easier that way, less embarrassing, and now, a habit hard to break.

He's hunched over an opened book, its pages yellowed and crinkled, writing into a notebook with a scholastic fervor. Sure, it isn't the answers he seeks, but knowledge for the sake of knowledge was, despite his renouncement of his cultist ambitious, still a worthy pursuit. The desk, a sturdy oaken relic, creaks slightly as Martin suspends on its chair's back legs, hitting it with his knees.

"Martin," Nathaniel smiles warmly when he sees the other man at the desk. "Just who I was looking for." He's encouraged by the frantic note-taking, hopefully it means Martin's found something of use.

Martin nearly falls over at the unexpected calling of his name. Luckily, he grips onto the desk at the last second. The books shake thanks to the small tremor caused, but nothing falls over.

"Nathaniel. Sorry about that," he apologies, an embarrassed smile plastered onto his face. "May I help you?"

Nathaniel stifles the urge to laugh at the sight of Martin nearly tipping out of his chair. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. And I hope I'm not disturbing you either." He grabs a chair from a nearby table and pulls it over, sitting down.

"I've been thinking about what we were discussing the other day, about trying to get home. I was wondering if you'd found anything out..." He tries to keep the hope out of his voice.

"No, it's alright." Martin chuckles once, pushing aside some books and papers to make room. "I could use a break." And a new perspective.

In answer to that question, Martin massages his temples, sighing as his fingers trace the outline of a daedric letter. "Sadly, no. These notes," he taps the notebook, "Are things I've found interesting and trying to work out how we could've been summoned here."

"You think it was magic that brought us here, then?" Nathaniel thinks about it for a moment before nodding. "Makes sense, actually. Though I wonder if every world has magic in it." He smiles ruefully. "That still seems strange to say: 'every world'. It never occurred to me that there would be others out there."

Perhaps it should have, with as much time he'd spent watching the stars-- a necessary action for any hunter or tracker. He'd made much use of the sextant he'd been given years ago as a gift.

"That, or technology that's unknown to me." Martin crosses his arms, head tilted in a pensive expression. "Ah, yes! It is strange." Though maybe not so much for Martin; there's tales of mages and warriors traveling into other realms, usually through great power, as well as great risk. Still, no point in disagreeing, lest he comes across as an arrogant scholar. "I know that not every world has magic. Quite a few people asked me about my magic, including a flatmate of mine, though he was a mage too."

Edited 2012-02-20 04:46 (UTC)

"There seem to be a lot of mages here." Which surprises Nathaniel a little. He'd never even seen a mage until he'd become a Grey Warden, though he knew well of their existence. "Where I come from, mages don't walk around so freely, and they're certainly not as open about their magic."

"Yes, I'm pleasantly surprised." Because for Martin, more mages might mean more healers, more people to learn from. "Are you from Thedas by any chance?" Anders made a post for mage solidarity, so Martin sees no harm in asking Nathaniel casually about his presumed realm.

Nathaniel looks at him, surprised. "I am...how did you know that?" As far as he knew, there was no one else here from Thedas. Though admittedly he hadn't been here for very long.

"My flatmate, the mage, spoke of Thedas." His words are measured, drawn out to give himself time to sense any ill-intent. When none is found, Martin continues. "His name is Anders."

Nathaniel couldn't have been more surprised if Martin had said his flatmate was Andraste herself. "Anders...your flatmate's name is Anders?" He needs a few moments to process this, or more than a few.

Maybe it's a different Anders, though. Part of him actually hopes it is, simply because he wouldn't wish this situation on anyone. "Tall bloke, with dark blond hair...argues about mage's rights?"

Martin nods, unsure as to why this is such a surprise to Nathaniel. Maybe Anders is dead in Thedas, like Martin is in Tamriel. "Yes, that's him. He was quite interested in my life as a mage in Tamriel, said it was nice to hear of realms where magic doesn't get you persecuted."

"That's him, alright." Nathaniel sits back in his chair, a little stunned. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face. "I can't believe that out of all the people living in Thedas, we were the ones brought here. It seems the Maker really does have a sense of humor."

Well, Nathaniel's smiling, that's a good sign! The tension on Martin's shoulders dissipates, a chuckle at the commentary about Anders, then dour silence as he shifts through his papers, trying not to think too hard about his own god.

"Tell me, is oppression of mages as bad as Anders makes it sound?" Not that Martin doubts Anders, but his bias was clear, not that Martin blamed him. Still, a different perspective was necessary, especially since Martin didn't feel right asking Anders about his realm.

Nathaniel hesitates a moment, unsure of how much to say. But if Martin is flatmates with Anders, there are things he should probably know.

"Probably, though I don't know how much he's told you." He thinks for a moment, getting his thoughts in order before speaking. "When someone's found to be a mage, they're immediately sent to live in Circles of Magi, where they're constantly watched over by the Templars. And when I say 'constantly', it's not an exaggeration. Day and night, no matter where they went within the Tower, they were watched. That's what Anders told me anyway." And he's never had any reason to doubt the man's word.

"They're not allowed to leave the Circles unattended, for any reason, and the ones that escape are called Apostates. They're hunted ruthlessly by the Templars until they're captured and taken back to the Circle." Anders had never spoken about what came after the capture, but he was sure there would be some form of punishment for a wayward mage who was bold enough to believe they didn't need to be under the Chantry's watchful eye.

"Most people in Thedas fear mages, and despise them. We're told that they're dangerous, and that they can't be trusted to watch over themselves. That if they did, they'd allow themselves to become possessed by demons, or become blood mages. There's a passage in the Chant of Light that says 'magic is meant to serve man, and never to rule over him.' Most of us take that to heart." He has no problem including himself in such statements; even if he no longer believes any of it, there was a time when he thought the Chantry was right in what they did to mages.

He gives Martin an apologetic look. "Sorry for being so long-winded, I don't usually talk this much. To give a short answer to your question: yes, mages are treated badly in Thedas, and that's not likely to change any time soon." Especially after what Anders did in Kirkwall, but that's not his story to tell.

Martin thanks the divines for his training in statecraft; keeping a neutral and attentive expression would've been impossible if he still were Brother Martin, especially during such an explanation.

No wonder Anders enjoyed Martin's tale of his life as a mage, the discovery of his powers, the vicarious glee sensed but not questioned, too deep for simple camaraderie. To think that in Tamriel magic was a gift, more so if you were an Imperial or another race not racially attuned into the gifts of Aetherius.

Religious zealotry, regardless of its intentions, was always bad. Perhaps it's hypocritical for an ex-priest to think such, but he was also an emperor who knew well what proclaiming a single pantheon as supreme over others would case. Civil unrest, deep hatred, and wars.

It's all so absurd, really. Man's worst enemy is himself, the evil which he covets and hides inside his soul. Martin bites his lip to keep from speaking out at the bit about demons and blood magic.

No point in thinking what he would do if he lived in such a realm. This isn't his fight, nor does he need to pointlessly anger himself at the moment.

"It's alright. That must've been difficult to tell. More so to live through." Martin's respect for Anders skyrockets. "Thank you."

Edited 2012-02-20 06:28 (UTC)

Nathaniel waves his hand, brushing off the thanks. "Anders has a tendency to be a bit...sensitive about the topic of mages. I figured you should know, in case he gets...angry." That sounds vague, even to his ears, but he's not sure if Anders has told Martin about Justice yet.

"Not that you should pussyfoot around him," Nathaniel hastens to say, "jus that you shouldn't take it personally."

Angry is an understatement. Anders has every right to feel this strongly about the topic of mage oppression in Thedas, Martin thinks. The vagueness, and warning, are almost laughable.

"I can't take personally what isn't about me." To do so would be entitlement. "I don't intent to treat him any different now that I've heard this. No one likes to be pitied."

"You're right about that," Nathaniel agrees. "I never pitied him, but there was a time when I took his actions very personally." He thinks about Justice, and how it was he who had suggested the spirit try to inhabit a willing host. His conviction that Justice played a large part in the death of so many people in Kirkwall has led him to feel as if he's partially responsible.

He smiles, shaking off the gloom. "It seems he's well matched in his flatmate at least, you two must get along well."

Martin keeps quiet, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, expression unyielding. When Nathaniel and Anders are ready, they will tell him about his past. For now, it isn't his right to ask anything.

"I haven't known him long but he's very sociable." No comment on himself. Revealing too much about himself might not be the best idea. He's content to be a simple (ex) priest, healer-mage, for now.

"He is sociable," Nathaniel smiles fondly. "We were Wardens together in Amaranthine years ago, and he was one of the few people who could actually get me to talk back then. Though, admittedly, most of the things I said were along the lines of 'you're impossible to talk to.'"

Martin matches the smile. Yes, Anders could talk a lot, and as more of a listener than a speaker, Martin let him prattle on. He could understand the meaning behind that quip, Anders enjoyed witticism.

Still, Nathaniel's admission piques his curiosity. "Wardens?"

Nathaniel nods. "Grey Wardens." He hazards a guess that Anders hasn't told Martin much about his past. "We're an order of fighters and such, charged with trying to destroy darkspawn, and defeating any Blights that occur."

It was strange trying to explain something that every person in Thedas knew about, to a greater or lesser degree. "Darkspawn are these hideous monsters that dwell in the depths of the earth, and they're led by the old gods--dragons, or so I've heard, though we call them archdemons. And every few hundred years or so, one of the archdemons rises up, along with thousands of its servants. Wardens are the only who can destroy the archdemon, and thus end the Blight.

"It's an important job; there were seven old gods to begin with, five have been defeated. A day will come when Thedas will be free of all darkspawn, and it'll be due to the Wardens." The pride that Nathaniel feels about being part of this order should be obvious to anyone who listens to his tale.

Every world has its demons and dragons. Good thing Martin hadn't told Nathaniel his god is a dragon (or that he's dragonborn) yet. As a mage, feared in Nathaniel's world, to reveal himself as a dragon worshiper might tip the balance from polite tolerance to uncomfortable wariness or worse, prejudice.

So, Anders was a Warden too? There are so many questions he has for these two men now, but he bites down the urge to blurt them out, opting for polite focus as Nathaniel continues. "You are a man of strong conviction and character to undertake such a task." Yes, Martin's impressed. He doesn't doubt Nathaniel's strength, witness to his skills with a bow but Martin would've never guessed those skills came at such great risk.

Nathaniel sounds so proud of his job, with good reason. Saving his realm from such a threat is no small task.

Edited 2012-02-21 06:17 (UTC)

Nathaniel actually laughs. "It wasn't my choice, actually, though I can't say I'm sorry it happened. I was conscripted after I was, uh, caught stealing." No need to go into all the details of that unhappy event.

"The Warden-Commander at the time decided I'd be more useful as a Grey Warden then hanging from the end of a noose." He shrugs. "There were times when I wasn't sure if she'd made the right decision, but I'm proud of being a Warden, now. I'm useful in a way I'd never been before. Or, at least I was," he smiles ruefully. "Not so much now, I suppose."

Best not to ask about that. As an Imperial and the emperor, Martin isn't too fond of crime. Nathaniel likely has a good reason for what he was doing, right?

Right.

"People are hung for thievery in Thedas?" Martin's eyes widen. That's a bit too draconian. Why hang people when you can fine them? A realm could always use more taxes. "I'm sure we'll prove useful here too, unless we find a way out."

"It depends on who you're caught stealing from," Nathaniel says a bit enigmatically. "I'm not a criminal, though, I assure you." He's more than a little worried that he's likely scared off one of the few people he's actually gotten acquainted with here. "And, it was a long time ago."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "As for proving useful here...I'm sure we will. I just wish I knew what exactly we're supposed to be fighting for, and what this 'Initiative' really is."

Mage oppression and unequally enforced laws. Thedas is sounding more like a place where Martin would never want to visit. Not that Tamriel is perfection walking, as he knew from personal experience and his studies of realm law, but still, to be hanged for petty thievery is heavy-handed.

If you commit a crime, you're a criminal. However, that's semantics. "I apologize for sounding judgmental." Nathaniel doesn't have anything to prove. As far as Martin's concerned, whatever or whoever he used to be in Thedas, that's in the past, and none of his concern.

"Don't we all. I can't say I'm too thrilled to be here, to fight another war for a realm that isn't even my own."

Nathaniel nods. "Exactly. They won't even tell us who exactly we're supposed to be fighting, or why it was neccessary for them to bring so many people here to help them."

That's extremely unsettling to Nathaniel. If they need this many people on their side, then their enemy must be pretty formidable. Not that he's afraid, exactly. Just that he likes to know what kind of danger he's getting himself into ahead of time.

Soldiers don't need to be told the logistics of a war. They just need to obey. Martin keeps that grim realization to himself. "They can use our confusion to their advantage. I have no intentions to fight for them, at least not until I'm told what I'm fighting for." And if I have a choice.

"They're putting an awful lot of trust in us, too. I mean, the first place we're led to when we get here is a huge armory full of weapons. It's as if they expect us to follow them willingly."

He doesn't like that idea at all. He takes exception about being treated like a mindless drone. Not to mention the fact that he's used to leading people now, rather than following.

"I can't say I see much of a flaw in their plan," Martin crosses his arms, deep in thought. "If we have to choose between fighting or death, many of us will choose the former. The human instinct to survive is a powerful thing." The Initiative is anything but stupid. They've dealt them hands all to their benefit. A masterstroke, really. Martin is impressed.

"Maybe," Nathaniel allows. "But the chances for revolt seem fairly high. What's to stop us from turning our weapons on them? Not that I plan to, mind you, but it seems to me like there are a lot of angry people here right now."

"We revolt against a deposed monarchy and then...what, exactly?" It isn't that Martin's giving up. Rather, he's careful and composed. "I doubt they'll show us the way back home after we overthrow them. The outside world is hostile to this rebellion and thus us. We would get no help."

"You seem awfully calm about all of this." There's no rancor in the statement, it's more of an observation than anything else. "You say you've no intention of fighting for them...what's your solution to all of this?" Again, it's an honest question. Nathaniel's genuinely interested in hearing suggestions.

"I'm used to these sort of political issues," ever so vague, Martin's fingers trace the silver crest of a leather-bound book, unlike the rest. "Learn more. Keep smiling, being helpful. That way, no one will suspect me of anything." Who would suspect a bookworm of something nefarious? No one, if Martin plays his cards right.

Edited 2012-02-21 18:56 (UTC)

"So you are looking for a way out." That's definitely reassuring. "I don't know much about magic...if this is a summons like you think, are there ways to possibly reverse it?"

"Absolutely." His tone is reassuring, full of steel. "All summons are bound by the laws of its pact. If I can find out what those are, what reagents were used to transport all of us from our realms into here, I should be able to figure out how to reverse it." Conjuration isn't his favorite school of magic, his bad past with the daedric cult giving him a healthy wariness of summoning daedra and spirits. But, if such measures were necessary to find the way home, for himself and others, so be it.

The more Nathaniel talks to Martin, the more he's coming to respect the other man. Nathaniel has a great love of trying to make sense of things, and Martin's conviction that there's a chance they could get out of here is bolstering.

"It might be worth trying to pool everyone's recollections of where they were right before they were brought here. See if there's some sort of common denominator.

"That's an excellent idea." Considering people here were (likely) picked for their skills, perhaps there is a common denominator. His own arrival at this realm still bothers Martin, but he isn't sure telling everyone he died in a blazing glory would be the best course. "I'll write down all the responses, see if I can find something in common."

Nathaniel nods, satisfied. "You seem like the type of person who likes to research things," he smiles at Martin. "I tend to be more comfortable with action, but I'll help in any way I can."

"Ah, thank you," Martin says, slightly embarrassed, scratching the side of his head in a sheepish gesture. "I don't enjoy fighting, unless I must."

Nathaniel nods his understanding. "I'm used to fighting, it's what Wardens do." He smiles wryly. "And it seems as if I go looking for fights more often than not."

"While fights come to me," Martin sighs, exasperated. "I wish I were used to fighting as you are." I wish I didn't feel as if I'm drifting from one war into another.

Nathaniel shrugs. "Fighting's not necessarily all it's cracked up to be. Especially when you're going into the fight blindly." He grimaces a little. "It's one thing to fight for a cause you believe in, or at least understand, it's something else entirely to fight someone else's battle."

He's going around in circles, he knows, but he can't help himself. The thing that irritates him and unsettles him the most about this place is how much there is that is unknown. The people...the places...everything is unfamiliar, and to someone like Nathaniel, who functions best when he has a firm grasp of any situation he's in, this place has barely more appeal than the dark maws of the Void.

Edited 2012-02-23 17:52 (UTC)

"No, it isn't." Martin utters each word as if their admittance is a personal affront. "Sometimes it's necessary, but..."

I wish I could spare everyone, and myself, the pain of war. An emperor who disliked fighting might be a hypocrisy, but the Oblivion Crisis took with it any desire to wage wars of conquest. The Blades wouldn't be happy if they knew these were his thought, but Martin never had any intentions to become another Uriel V.

This is a soul-sucking conversation. Martin raises and lowers his shoulders, exhaling to shake himself away from his reverie. "I'm sorry, I've digressed. Would you like me to show you where Anders is?"

Edited 2012-02-24 03:53 (UTC)

Nathaniel feels a bit bad for being so grim when talking to Martin, but he can't quite help himself. Being grim and serious is in his nature.

He forces himself to smile. "If you could tell me where he is, I'd appreciate it." He still wasn't allowing himself to get his hopes up; it was possible that Martin was wrong, that this wasn't his Anders. But of course he had to see for himself.

That smile was insincere. Martin isn't in a position to tell Nathaniel that, nor does he care to call him out for a pleasantry, as grating as they are.

Martin rises, tucking some papers into the dragon-plated, leather-bound grimoire, and putting a couple of notebooks on top of it. Once that's done, he picks up the stack. "There are two places where you're most likely to find him: a cafe outside the hold, and his room. We should probably check the cafe first." Martin purses his lips into an amused smile. "They allow cats inside."

Edited 2012-02-24 04:59 (UTC)