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Caterina was correct in that they needed a solution for this problem quickly. One that would not leave the Crows hemorrhaging as the other attempts to solve the problem had done.
Still he can’t help but remember that the last time this many Talons had gathered to solve a problem half their number had been killed. By one of their own, true, but this meeting is not without its inherent dangers if Caterina Dellamorte has misjudged the situation.
Viago de Riva is not one to fidget but he finds himself glad that his favorite fledgling is suitably occupied with punishment work overseen by Heir so that he does not have a shadow to worry about that night. (It is time to raise them up to Crow status - has been for some time - but he worries about how openly they care and their recklessness. Fine qualities in general, but not for a Crow’s survival, especially in a de Riva.)
That and he allows himself to stand a little closer to Teia than he usually would at such an event. Her presence is soothing, true, but most of all he wants them to be able to rely on one another should the First Talon’s plans for this night go awry.
Lucanis is already present, waiting politely in the shadows for his grandmother’s arrival. In general, he is not the Dellamorte grandson he’d have chosen for a diplomatic situation but he is the one Viago prefers over the two of them.
As are the enemies they are meeting. Though perhaps ‘potential allies’ would be a more appropriate phrase given the purpose of the evening.
There are three here, opposite the Crows.
He lets his gaze fall over each once more.
The one standing at the back, closest to the exit their party had used to arrive, is one he knows. Laurencio Altimari had been friends with Teia before his fall from grace with the former Cantori Talon. The thick acid scars across his face have healed well. He fidgets under their gazes but does offer Teia a bit of a smile in return for the one she sends him. He is among those whose suffering led to Teia taking her title as she did.
Viago is not part of the ‘reformists’ out of the goodness of his heart, like Teia. The Crows can be cruel and brutal - that is part of power - but a great deal of skill had been lost and wasted due to arbitrary judgements and overly harsh punishments and petty infighting that led nowhere but wasted blood. Skill that they will need with the Antaam’s threat hanging over them. Most of that skill had been lost to death - very few had risked breaking away to follow the Shadow in his rebellion.
The Shadow relaxes on one of the couches with an air of casualness all too familiar from any number of Crows. It’s the one they are all taught to assume as a mask.
His amber gaze tracking them under his lashes. He’s dressed, like the others in his party, for a potential fight. Viago cannot blame him - it would not be the first time Crows had offered to talk only for it to become another attempt on the traitor’s life.
Zevran Arainai is the thesis topic, if one would, as to why many of the Crowmasters had reconsidered and reexamined their training methods and the environment their Crows were subjected to. (Not enough, there are still too many that make the Arainai of the past seem gentle.) Too many Crows - too many Talons - dead by the hand of a single skilled traitor given a cause to not consider the implications with regards to their own Crows.
Viago doesn’t let his inspection linger there long. Like every Talon he has given time to study the traitor in the past and it does not take a long inspection to see that he is a talented Crow without qualms about applying said talents for his own gain should they make it necessary once more. A danger but not an unfamiliar variable.
The third in the Shadow’s party is not one whose face he recognizes. They stand behind the couch, arms crossed, while they guard Zevran’s back in an obvious way to make a statement of the action.
Where Altimari is openly nervous and Arainai has covered any nerves with that air of casual disregard familiar to most Crows this one is…steady. Not unaware of the danger, just supremely calm about it as blue eyes catalogue each Crow present - lingering longest on Lucanis Dellamorte in the shadows with a hint of amusement on his lips.
The elf’s pale skin is slightly sunburnt from Antiva’s warm climates. Black hair is tied back tightly as if to avoid having the wind muss it - a style not uncommon in Treviso among Crows who spend time flying along ziplines. Blue eyes meet his gaze as an equal without flinching, not in a stubborn way but in the manner of someone used to holding authority and respect.
There is very little Crow-like about the elf save for his dark leather armor that matches the other two for the most part. There are differences to his gear in the brilliant blue accents and the fastenings of polished silverite rather than a more subtle selection. He’s not as heavily armed as the other two: a sword that gleams with enchantment even while sheathed, and a dagger of Dalish design - both worn openly - and a handful of hidden knives in the style that Zevran wears. From the pockets where most crows would have carried vials of poisons there’s the subtle glow of lyrium potions.
Viago is certain it is no Crow at all that he looks at, but the failed contract that began it all. An embarrassment to the Crows with so many unfinished contracts upon him that only King Markham of Nevarra can generate more ire by his mention.
Teia leans over to hiss quietly at him, “Is that who I think it is?”
“It would explain why Lucanis has been sent to join us,” he murmurs quietly.
Warden Surana had killed as many Crows as his lover at this point. Very few foreigners with open contracts on their life would be in Antiva at all, let alone meet with Talons. Very few mages would warrant Caterina Dellamorte insisting on her mage-killer grandson being present during a meeting as well.
The man that brought down an Archdemon and lived to tell about it. Whatever Weisshaupt might claim about Warden Riordan’s role - the Crows who were in Denerim had seen the man die long before the final strike had been dealt.
“ Amor ,” Zevran purrs - actual amusement in his tone - “You make our new friends nervous when you glare at them as if they are Orleisans who insulted that slobbering hound of yours. We are here to make friends, yes?”
“So - it is true,” Teia smiles - a hint of admiration for the other elf bleeds into her tone. There are very few elves in history that can be credited with saving the world. “You’re Warden Surana?”
The elf tilts his head in consideration, “I believe Weisshaupt has stripped me of my membership in the main Order, Talon Cantori, so that title no longer applies outside the Fereldan Wardens. It is just ‘Falcon Surana’ in Antiva, any power I have here is through Zevran.”
“You underestimate your own reputation,” Viago mutters darkly - earning smiles from both the elves facing them. One slightly embarrassed, one altogether too pleased with the statement considering it wasn’t about him .
“When this is done you must tell me about facing the Archdemon,” Teia grins. “I’ll make sure Viago doesn’t go near the drinks.”
There’s a look of faint surprise for a moment before he smiles, “I’d be glad to, but Zevran tells me that I make the story sound terribly dull.”
“Fereldans,” Zevran smirks - there is that terrible warmth of love as he looks to his Warden though - “No sense of excitement, truly. He makes it sound as if he went to the market and tripped into stabbing an Old God.”
“I prefer Zevran’s version,” the Warden admits, “Although the last time he told it he did make it sound as if we did all manner of terrible things while soaked in Archdemon blood.”
“Oh? Did we not?”
“I was unconscious for three days after dealing the killing blow and you know better than to mess with Blighted blood.”
Zevran opens his mouth to tease his lover further before stilling, eyes narrowing at the entrance.
Caterina Dellamorte’s cane clicks on the floor loudly as she arrives. Both assassin and Warden have focused on her as a threat. Surana shifts his weight back, setting his feet to be prepared for casting if it becomes necessary. Arainai rises to his feet - a show of politeness but also in preparation should he have to move.
“Forgive my lateness - I had hoped to have confirmation of something in Par Vollen.”
The Warden’s expression turns grim at that.
Every Crow in the room catches that - including Caterina who pauses before she sits and gestures for Zevran to do so too. His posture is less relaxed than before as he takes the seat opposite the First Talon.
“I assume you have heard the rumors.”
The blond once-crow hums, “I may have. It is difficult to get word on such things when one is on the run from Crows, yes?”
Caterina taps her fingers on her cane, “You should teach your Warden how to manage his expressions, Shadow.”
There’s a chuckle - chill and playful - at that: “I have tried, my dear woman, he proves intractably Fereldan in that regard. All together too honest for his own good.”
Viago glances at the Warden and sees no insult, only curiosity as he studies the Dellamorte matriarch. No indication that he’ll take the bait and insert himself in the conversation where he does not belong. It is true that Surana’s face is more honest than it should be, but for all the elf seems to recognize that he has just been subtly threatened by the First Talon he is still unconcerned by that threat.
“The Antaam will soon make themselves a problem in Antiva,” Caterina notes. “The Crows will be too busy dealing with that to deal with the continued problem of your ‘Shadows’.”
“And what does the First Talon propose to do about me and mine?”
“A pardon - the contracts will be canceled and you will receive the rank of Guildmaster. You and yours return home to the Crows.”
The blond hums, “Free to manage my House as I see fit, is it? House Arainai will not be pleased.”
“House Arainai will accept the terms - you are more valuable to us than they are now and they have had time in which they have failed to correct their mistakes.”
“Caterina, Vi, and I - we are trying to make the Crows better,” Teia puts in quietly. “Make it so the Fledglings that follow us are not abused and broken for no reason. That Crows serve Antiva instead of whatever petty goals the House’s master has.”
Zevran studies her for a long moment - perhaps thinking about which house he had stolen his right hand from. Laurencio’s uncomfortable shift behind them had been unlikely to go unnoticed, even if only Surana glanced his way to check on him.
“‘House Surana’,” Zevran settles back with amusement. “It does have a fine sound to it, no?”
“‘Surana’ then?” Caterina’s eyes narrow - taking the name of an Archdemon’s killer is no small thing and traditionally the Talon recommending the foundation of a new house would also grant a new name.
“I see no reason why we shouldn’t take my husband’s name as our House’s,” comes the playful shrug.
“It will certainly give your Fledglings something to aspire to,” Teia notes with a laugh that cuts through the tension.
“Something more profitable than rebellion, yes?” Zevran grins. As if Warden Surana is not known for practically leading a rebellion and being in flagrant defiance of Weisshaupt.
Caterina studies him before frowning in warning, “Do not make your attempt to rise to Talon detrimental to Antiva. If the Antaam invade we must be united against them - infighting cannot be tolerated any longer.”
“I will need time to establish myself in Antiva,” Zevran laughs, waving the concern away. “I need a house in which to raise my Fledglings before we rise so high, no? My dear Warden would never allow me to pack them into drafty warehouses, you see.”
Viago feels himself sigh - the addition of House Surana to the Crows will be a boon against the Antaam, of that he has very little doubt, but they will be a powerful rival with which to deal with in the years to come. It will likely not be long, given the state of things, before he is addressing Zevran as a Talon.
Teia seems to be angling to make allies of these new additions to the Crows, perhaps he can rely on her to smooth over relations with them. She has a better talent for such things than he does.
“You are welcome in the Diamond while we prepare,” Teia offers as if overhearing his thoughts. “I am hosting a number of houses already in preparation for defending Treviso.”
Zevran bows his head politely, “I will keep the invitation in mind, Seventh Talon - I will need time to contact my people and bring in the ones who wish to join this new house.”
The only one who seems surprised by the summoning of a scribe to write them up is the Fereldan and he still maintains his watch over the proceedings.
The contracts are drawn up, signed and witnessed.
“House Surana - ‘Amongst shadows the mighty fall’,” Lucanis murmurs as he abandons his post to join him and Teia. The posturing portion of the evening is done with, and the older Dellamorte cousin seems relieved not to have to fight a legend.
“A reminder of where they began,” Teia points out. “In a way the House’s first contract was Uthemiel.”
“A warning to those who would threaten them,” Viago corrects. “They are going to be a headache.”
“Perhaps - but you enjoy those,” Teia smirks before breaking away to speak with her old flockmate. (She pretends not to notice the way that both Surana and Zevran sharpen their attention on her at the movement, nor the way that Surana waits for Laurencio to signal that he is okay to relax his focus, giving them a measure of privacy for the hushed conversation.)
He will need to hurry and make his idiot a full Crow sooner than later. House de Riva will need their abilities in the days to come - hopefully experience will teach them to stop and think before they act in a way that Viago’s tutelage has failed to impart.