IC Inbox

[arlathvhen]

This is Beleth. I apologize, but I'm not available at the moment. If you leave a message, I'll try to reach you as soon as I can.

[OOC Note: If you're visiting her room, here is a description of it, and here is one of her office.]

Comments

[fireandsmoke]

[Absent. So the man he might have used as a resource -- aside from Anders, who he intends to contact next -- is either away on a journey or errand of his own volition, or simply missing. Of course Sarkan can expect very little to be simple around here.]

Does this 'Solas' have any plans to return?

[arlathvhen]

...I'm sure he'll return at some point, but I'm afraid that the information as to the nature of his current mission, and when he's estimated to return, is classified above my rank.

--Which means it most be pretty important, because classified information is my job. And I'm one of the highest ranking people in the Gallows...

[ It's not like she can steal the information, either--that'd involve spying on Leliana, and Beleth likes her fingers. ]

[fireandsmoke]

[Well... this all sounds strange and convoluted, but of course, he understands full well that the Inquisition has no obligation to let him in on any of that information. Especially if Beleth isn't privy to it, and she is not shy about indicating her high rank. That doesn't bother Sarkan; he would not be shy about it if he were her, either.]

All right. Since I haven't got a way out of this realm, I'll have plenty of time to await rumors of his return. [So long as this Solas doesn't turn up dead instead.] Anders will have to be enough to satisfy me for now.

[arlathvhen]

[ There's a faint noise that sounds suspiciously like a muffled giggle. ]

Well--Um. In that case, I wish you the best of luck. I'll let you know if anything in that situation changes.

In the meantime, I hope that Anders manages to, ah. Satisfy you.

[fireandsmoke]

[It takes a moment for the giggle to sink in. His initial impulse reaction is outrage -- he cannot stand being laughed at. But for once he manages to mind himself in the presence of someone to whom he owes his life, and rather than a snarl, Beleth will pick up an indignant little snort.]

Not enough to convince me to drop my breeches, [he says dryly.] But enough to help me become more productive.

I'll mind my wording next time.