[It was something he would never admit, but Cailan didn't know most of the weapons that they were allowed to choose from. Something called a gun? Another one called a machine gun? Even the explanation of what they were was unsatisfactory, but there was a large group of weapons that he knew.

And finding his father's blade helped narrow the field down considerably. What he didn't know was what he was supposed to do now. They said they would send him on missions, but he wouldn't get to plan them. He couldn't go home, even though there was long awaited glory waiting back home, and his kingdom needed him.

Plus he had no idea what to do with this little book thing. What was he supposed to do, look at it? Read it, in some way, or communicate with others like he was told? This would all be exciting if he knew what was going on. Well. It was pretty exciting, anyway. Being sent to the bank, he was in full armor, tapping at the screen of the "book" and ignoring the stares of people walking by, most of whom were going on the other side of the street.]

Hello? This is King Cailan Theirin of Ferelden, I require information. [He keeps tapping at the screen.] I admit, I'm more used to books back home being less complex then this.

[He gives a roguish grin, something he isn’t even sure if anyone can see.]

Is someone there? There will be quite a bit of gold involved if anyone is able to help me understand this thing, I can assure you of that. I’m a king, after all, I’m sure I can afford a bit of help, even in... such a strange place as this!

[ The feed turns on. Leliana looks closely at the notebook and waves her hand in front of the video feed. It mirrors her movements. There are other people in other windows and they are all watching her! She wonders if this is what the other side of the mirror feels like. ]

This… communication device is so interesting! Is it some sort of, um, ancient magic? I don’t know much about those, I am afraid, but it is certainly useful, no?

This place is really grand. I don’t think I have ever been anywhere like here. Not in Ferelden. Not in Orlais. Not in Orzammar. I am sure these walls and windows have a lot of stories to tell, and these grand spaces have a lot of adventure to uncover. [She giggles.] I am going to find out, soon enough.

I still can’t believe I’m here! I can’t tell if I’m dead or if I’m dreaming. I hope nobody pinches me awake soon, at least.

Oh. But I have certainly babbled enough, I think. I am Leliana! It’s a pleasure to meet all of you!

[ ooc: psst, mods, it's Leliana not Lelania in the tags. :D ]

[The video feed sparks to life as Chloe taps repeatedly at the screen, offering the net a view of a woman with shoulder-length dark hair and bright eyes, wearing a stylish biking jacket and a few layers of leather necklaces with various little charms hanging from their ends. The city's skyline is visible behind her from a particularly high vantage point, and it's likely that she's found herself a resting place somewhere atop the roof of one of the taller buildings. She wiggles a few fingers lazily in greeting before speaking up with a distinctly Australian accent.]

Evening, everyone. Chloe here. New arrival, in case you haven't noticed. All right, somewhat new. Got dragged into this mess a few days ago and decided to take my time getting settled; never know what's out there if you don't bother to look first.

I was a treasure hunter back home-- one of the best in the business, I might add. Problem is I'm getting the impression that there's not much treasure to be found here on Alcatraz, and I'd prefer to stay sharp while things are relatively quiet. So here's the deal: if you need something of value-- for a price-- I'm more than happy to lend a well-trained hand and fetch it for you.

[She moves to shut the call down before adding, thoughtfully]

And in the meantime, if anyone out there knows a place that serves good drinks, I'm all ears. After all this I could sure as hell use one.  

[The video clicks on to a claustrophobic view of what appears to be dark fabric, then abruptly shifts, tipping upwards to reveal a scowling man looking like he's seen (much) better days. Judging from the angle, the netbook is being propped up on his knee with one hand while he sits reclined against a wall; the other hand is pressed firmly to his stomach. It quickly becomes clear that the fabric isn't dark - it's just covered in blood, both beneath his hand and again at his left shoulder. His face is similarly accented by a few cuts and bruises, not to mention a fair amount of dirt.]

Testing, testing- [A strong English accent, interrupted by a cough.] I don't know what the hell this is about, but I'm guessing it's not heaven. Either way, I'd like to stick around long enough to find out. The odd woman said I could get assistance on this thing - so here I am, calling for assistance.

Can I get a sodding doctor over here?

Residence, pay, weapons... 'Tis truly a most perplexing abduction, indeed. Am I to be prodded like some errant pet? Experimented upon, perhaps? Or merely observed? Seems a most foolish squandering of resources, if so.

Yet, here I note mentions of conscription and battle. An irony, truly - though, better than the forced imbibing darkspawn essence... And considerably more agreeable with one's palate, no doubt.

So, tell me... How long am I to be expected to roam? Or must my first order of business be one of rebellion?

[This is where it switches from audio to video and the appearance of a displeased Morrigan, complete with staff on back, for those who know a little about mages from Thedas. The yellow eyes might be a little odd, even for those who do, of course.]