Officially? Not sure if records were kept up all that well when the war hit, but if we assume they have, then it's been since the Conclave. [so it's been a w h i l e]
I would've just let them think I'm dead, but I don't figure that'll fly anymore.
[Ugh, no, find a different way to phrase it.] Things happened, and I ended up questioning my faith and everything I'd ever been taught. I don't really object to the idea of taking up my position if things were different, but with the March happening, I'm not interested in being sent off to some front lines of a possibly losing fight. I'd like to see the Order have a purpose again instead of being just another army.
Little old to be going back anyway, and my place right now is here.
[silence as Barrow listens, mulls over what he's being told, concludes with:]
Yeah.
[Mobius is right. His reasoning is noble, as Vanya's was-- well-argued and considered, righteous. Barrow never considered the morals of his contemporaries, never asked, with good reason.
He falls silent, unsure of what to say that won't out him as a fool.]
[It's hard, over the crystal, to know how to take that. Part of him always expects judgement, even if Barrow has never done that, ever, to him. And he wonders if his vague reasoning is enough.
He doesn't have to prove anything to Barrow, but he's been a friend right from the start.]
I don't want to give up what I do. I never did. I grew up with this. Andraste blessed me with a vision and sent me to the Templars. What we do--what we did, when Circles still existed, that's what we were taught to do, and it was necessary.
But I haven't been a Templar ever since the Herald died. And without Circles to keep mages safe in their places of learning, I don't know what the Templars do. You know how things got when the war started. What--what the hell were any of us? Everyone left, and plenty decided to become judge, jury, executioner to every mage they came across.
The hand of Andraste guided me here. And I'm not going to abandon these people. And as long as I still have my training, I can help them fight the Venatori.
[And that's more than was needed. Takes a lot out of him. Mobius lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes on his end.]
[another awkward, pensive silence, followed simply by a second,]
of... of course.
[It's not helpful, he knows. He can tell Mobius is on edge, and he feels grateful for the candor, if only something didn't stand so solidly between himself and doing the same.]
Yeah. [agreement: a stiff drink is what they both need.]
[Maybe a drink might help Barrow to open up on his own end. Or at least it'll make them both feel better.] Name a place, I'll be there. Can even provide some of that drink.
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How long’s it been since they heard from you?
[it’ll affect believability, for one thing: for the other, perhaps it’ll be easier to think about Mobius’ situation than his own.]
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I would've just let them think I'm dead, but I don't figure that'll fly anymore.
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Always took you for the loyalist sort. In a good way. Dunno why. [grunted,] sorry.
[He's silent a moment, then adds,]
maybe they'll put your noose next to mine.
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[Ugh, no, find a different way to phrase it.] Things happened, and I ended up questioning my faith and everything I'd ever been taught. I don't really object to the idea of taking up my position if things were different, but with the March happening, I'm not interested in being sent off to some front lines of a possibly losing fight. I'd like to see the Order have a purpose again instead of being just another army.
Little old to be going back anyway, and my place right now is here.
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Yeah.
[Mobius is right. His reasoning is noble, as Vanya's was-- well-argued and considered, righteous. Barrow never considered the morals of his contemporaries, never asked, with good reason.
He falls silent, unsure of what to say that won't out him as a fool.]
no subject
He doesn't have to prove anything to Barrow, but he's been a friend right from the start.]
I don't want to give up what I do. I never did. I grew up with this. Andraste blessed me with a vision and sent me to the Templars. What we do--what we did, when Circles still existed, that's what we were taught to do, and it was necessary.
But I haven't been a Templar ever since the Herald died. And without Circles to keep mages safe in their places of learning, I don't know what the Templars do. You know how things got when the war started. What--what the hell were any of us? Everyone left, and plenty decided to become judge, jury, executioner to every mage they came across.
The hand of Andraste guided me here. And I'm not going to abandon these people. And as long as I still have my training, I can help them fight the Venatori.
[And that's more than was needed. Takes a lot out of him. Mobius lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes on his end.]
I could use a stiff drink, how about you?
no subject
[another awkward, pensive silence, followed simply by a second,]
of... of course.
[It's not helpful, he knows. He can tell Mobius is on edge, and he feels grateful for the candor, if only something didn't stand so solidly between himself and doing the same.]
Yeah. [agreement: a stiff drink is what they both need.]
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In the city. [He's already said the word 'noose' enough times today.] Hanged Man? [wait]