Marcus looks to the map again. He's an able griffon rider who has been made aware that his own diplomatic skills are lacking. There is generally a chance of his name carrying an implicit threat, perhaps even with far flung Grey Wardens. There is no reason for any famous tempers to be brought to bear against them, but his skillset runs rough, at the best of times.
Well. No need to speculate. "Why do you want me there?" is blunt. There are other people he can fish for compliments from.
Does the question offend? No. Ellis' expression doesn't shift, no new tension winds through his body. If anything, it eases the set of his jaw, draws a breath out of him as he settles into his answer.
"I believe we work well together."
All his training, all his travels, has instilled a healthy appreciation in Ellis for a mage capable of slinging spells over his shoulder without obliterating him.
"And I think you understand the importance of discretion."
The latter arguably more important, to Ellis' thinking.
So it isn't that anyone may need to be pushed in lava.
Or at least, it's not greatly high up on the list, deadliness for its own sake and that being all. He wouldn't have begrudged it.
It is an answer Marcus can appreciate, though, no sense of surprise or doubt in it, quietly absorbing as he thinks it over. Privately, perhaps there is satisfaction in being specifically drawn into a task that is not because there is something in need of killing. Not his first, but rare enough.
Should he press the point? The impulse comes and goes, eased by the very thing that had decided Marcus in the first place.
He is a man who knows how to keep a thing secret. How to keep a thing protected in doing so. Ellis doesn't think he need to press further than he has to make the need for it clear to Marcus.
The boundaries of secret-keeping may need to be made clearer, but for now, logistics and timing seem more pertinent to him, a map spread between. And also—
Well, no Templars might have been too good to be true. He gives nothing away that indicates displeasure when Orlov is mentioned, and seems to think a little harder on what he knows of Strange (nothing) and Abby (nothing objectionable).
It's an interesting assemblage. Three particularly taciturn men of this world, and three rifters. If there is some ulterior meaning to it, it's nothing that Marcus lands on quickly save that it strikes him. Discretion.
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no subject
Marcus looks to the map again. He's an able griffon rider who has been made aware that his own diplomatic skills are lacking. There is generally a chance of his name carrying an implicit threat, perhaps even with far flung Grey Wardens. There is no reason for any famous tempers to be brought to bear against them, but his skillset runs rough, at the best of times.
Well. No need to speculate. "Why do you want me there?" is blunt. There are other people he can fish for compliments from.
no subject
Does the question offend? No. Ellis' expression doesn't shift, no new tension winds through his body. If anything, it eases the set of his jaw, draws a breath out of him as he settles into his answer.
"I believe we work well together."
All his training, all his travels, has instilled a healthy appreciation in Ellis for a mage capable of slinging spells over his shoulder without obliterating him.
"And I think you understand the importance of discretion."
The latter arguably more important, to Ellis' thinking.
no subject
Or at least, it's not greatly high up on the list, deadliness for its own sake and that being all. He wouldn't have begrudged it.
It is an answer Marcus can appreciate, though, no sense of surprise or doubt in it, quietly absorbing as he thinks it over. Privately, perhaps there is satisfaction in being specifically drawn into a task that is not because there is something in need of killing. Not his first, but rare enough.
"Alright," he says. "Soon?"
no subject
Should he press the point? The impulse comes and goes, eased by the very thing that had decided Marcus in the first place.
He is a man who knows how to keep a thing secret. How to keep a thing protected in doing so. Ellis doesn't think he need to press further than he has to make the need for it clear to Marcus.
"I mean to speak to the others today."
no subject
"Who else?"
no subject
A smooth recitation, without any sign of trepidation over this assembly.
no subject
It's an interesting assemblage. Three particularly taciturn men of this world, and three rifters. If there is some ulterior meaning to it, it's nothing that Marcus lands on quickly save that it strikes him. Discretion.
He nods.
no subject
"Thank you."
Which is followed by Ellis rising to his feet, clearly considering this business concluded.
"I will send word when the time comes to leave."