Ships from Antiva and Hasmal do not have their goods seized when passing by Starkhaven. I propose arranging a diplomatic incident leading to that policy changing.
Do we have the contacts to disguise a member or two of Riftwatch on a ship during their return trip?
Disrupting trading of food before winter sets in would be easier, if Antiva and Hasmal withdraw trade from the area, and Tevinter ceases to look reasonable. Hungry civilians in Starkhaven starting food riots would divert their forces— and so on.
[ a beat. a very I’m-not-involved,-but beat. ]
I assume the Division Heads have prepared our own winter stores?
It's an interesting idea. But for there to be hungry civilians in Starkhaven, civilians would have to go hungry. Which - [ Is not in Byerly's acceptable list of strategies. ]
( but how can he be sure if he's not the one personally looking at all those papers he's not allowed to look at anymore- )
Or suspect they will be going so shortly. ( a verbal shrug. ) Threaten the illusion of bounty, then. We would hardly need for them to starve. Tevinter has been a gentle enough governor so far. But a rumor or two about their ability to keep grain at a reasonable price, or a few days of missed shipments...
[ He grins at the pantomime—not the kind of worried about he meant, but funny. ]
Maybe they can be offered a choice between Circles and serfdom, [ he proposes, unseriously, and more seriously adds: ] I do feel for them. Having so much of their lives decided by something they can't change.
[ For a moment his face shifts into something even more serious, though also warmer, and probably inscrutable. Behind it he's thinking about the abomination in the dining hall—about Byerly's wounded side and burned arm, about wanting to to fuss and to wind around him but holding back. There were a lot of moments when Bastien should have known he was in it for real; that was one of them.
Battle of Denerim. I was hiding during it, to be sure, but I saw some of the fighting. And I knew a mage, too, back in my Fereldan days - a friend of mine, one of my circle.
[ By smiles wryly at Bastien's rather wry, and not-at-all-modern, turn of phrase. ]
A good and dutiful fellow - of noble birth - who was a specialist in healing magic. He'd be sent out from his Circle to serve every now and again, and would be sure to get a drink before he went back home again.
It would be nice if they were all healers. I suppose that the healers can be possessed just as easily—but they are so much less intimidating in the meantime.
[ Bastien keeps hold of Byerly's hand, wrist resting on his knee, and nods. ]
Still shitty. All of it is.
[ He has a distant memory of the dragons attacking the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux when he was twelve—distant in both time and physical space, he wasn't there. (Though he did tell people that was how his mother died, for a while.) A more recent one of rioters and locked gates and fires scattered through the city. Both of those together can't be a fraction of what the Blight was like in Denerim. ]
It doesn't seem fair for all of these problems to be so big and magical, when so many of us are only—
[ There's no good word for non-magical, so he shrugs and trusts Byerly to get it. ]
Not all we can do. We cannot discount the power of your eyelashes. If we can get you close enough to bat them at Corypheus, who knows what might happen?
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