Grand Cleric Richomme had been sent from the Imperium to observe the Inquisition. Well. Sort of. More accurately, to infiltrate it. To learn as much as he could and to return to them with any useful information. That was what they wanted him to do. What he wanted to do was infiltrate them and see if there was way to negotiate an agreement between the Andrastian Divine and the Imperium Divine since the threat of Corypheus had grown to be so great.
He had been here for a few days, under the guise of any other refugee sort that needed help. So far, so good. No one suspected who he was or what he was doing. Good. What he needed now was information. Who were these Rifters and what sort of power did they hold? In general, what the hell was going on here? He had far more questions than answers and it was frustrating.
But he couldn't reveal himself, lest he be sent back with no information at all. Or killed, which to be honest, he figured some of the Imperial Clerics wouldn't mind at all.
He believed everyone here was beneath him, but he was disgusted by how accepting these people were of the Rifters, when the same courtesy had not been extended even to their own people to the North. He had to set that aside - to an extent, lest his presence be discovered.
Currently, he could be found wandering around Skyhold.
To anyone who looked vaguely in the know, he would ask, "Pardon the interruption, but do you know anything about the care of these so-called Rifters?"
To anyone who looked less than impressive (which let's be honest, is anyone who isn't from the Imperium), he would ask, "Forgive me, I'm finding myself a little confused. I have a tear in my robe. Where is the best place to get it mended?"
It wasn't an entire lie. He held his robe so that the tear was clearly visible. He just could mend it for himself, so didn't actually need assistance. But it was a good way to test those around him.
Armadus Richomme | AU'd Richelieu (sorry for the second)
Grand Cleric Richomme had been sent from the Imperium to observe the Inquisition. Well. Sort of. More accurately, to infiltrate it. To learn as much as he could and to return to them with any useful information. That was what they wanted him to do. What he wanted to do was infiltrate them and see if there was way to negotiate an agreement between the Andrastian Divine and the Imperium Divine since the threat of Corypheus had grown to be so great.
He had been here for a few days, under the guise of any other refugee sort that needed help. So far, so good. No one suspected who he was or what he was doing. Good. What he needed now was information. Who were these Rifters and what sort of power did they hold? In general, what the hell was going on here? He had far more questions than answers and it was frustrating.
But he couldn't reveal himself, lest he be sent back with no information at all. Or killed, which to be honest, he figured some of the Imperial Clerics wouldn't mind at all.
He believed everyone here was beneath him, but he was disgusted by how accepting these people were of the Rifters, when the same courtesy had not been extended even to their own people to the North. He had to set that aside - to an extent, lest his presence be discovered.
Currently, he could be found wandering around Skyhold.
To anyone who looked vaguely in the know, he would ask, "Pardon the interruption, but do you know anything about the care of these so-called Rifters?"
To anyone who looked less than impressive (which let's be honest, is anyone who isn't from the Imperium), he would ask, "Forgive me, I'm finding myself a little confused. I have a tear in my robe. Where is the best place to get it mended?"
It wasn't an entire lie. He held his robe so that the tear was clearly visible. He just could mend it for himself, so didn't actually need assistance. But it was a good way to test those around him.