[The very objective and unprejudiced and impartial recently Templar-napped mage who was very, very clear on his position of Fight Anyone Who Disagrees back at Cumberland. If he says.
Mobius counts off answers on his fingers:] None of your business, none of your business and none of your business, no one and no one [an actual answer? gasp], and definitely no business of yours. If you want to know what led me here, I imagine 'the Maker told me to' isn't an answer that'll fly.
[But that is...also not really a lie. If ever there was a sign from something divine what he needed to do and where he needed to go, griffons above Starkhaven was it.]
Isn't sniffing out liars and traitors something more suited to a spymaster?
[ And he crushes out his nearly spent cigarette, applying pen to ink and then to paper. A few things are written down in the relative silence of metal scratching paper. Mobius would probably have to lean to see what they are.
Marcus doesn't wait to be finished, nor look up, before he says, ]
[That's all? Not even a threat of punishment? That's almost disappointing. Almost. Will there be consequences at all, he wonders, or was this all just a passing fancy Marcus had that the Commander allowed him to indulge?
Mobius doesn't hesitate. He's up the moment it's indicated.]
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no subject
[The very objective and unprejudiced and impartial recently Templar-napped mage who was very, very clear on his position of Fight Anyone Who Disagrees back at Cumberland. If he says.
Mobius counts off answers on his fingers:] None of your business, none of your business and none of your business, no one and no one [an actual answer? gasp], and definitely no business of yours. If you want to know what led me here, I imagine 'the Maker told me to' isn't an answer that'll fly.
[But that is...also not really a lie. If ever there was a sign from something divine what he needed to do and where he needed to go, griffons above Starkhaven was it.]
Isn't sniffing out liars and traitors something more suited to a spymaster?
no subject
I'm sure she has her methods.
[ And he crushes out his nearly spent cigarette, applying pen to ink and then to paper. A few things are written down in the relative silence of metal scratching paper. Mobius would probably have to lean to see what they are.
Marcus doesn't wait to be finished, nor look up, before he says, ]
You can go.
no subject
Mobius doesn't hesitate. He's up the moment it's indicated.]
Messere.
[Aaaaand he's outie 3000 bye]