"As far as I understand it, the latter," similarly has no trace of defensiveness to it. Forces isn't Scouting; that fact that they seem to have both spotted the Ventori and then, having chosen not to pick a fight, slipped away unseen might be classified as one of Andraste's more minor miracles.
"That is convenient. If you'd like, I could draw up a list of a few Sashamiri project personnel who might supplement any of your choices from Forces." It seems worth striking while the iron is hot, and he'd as soon get his hands on any information they can.
"If you would. A primer on the broad strokes of what the Venatori might be looking for wouldn't be amiss either," he says, moving to fold shut the heavy book. They're rewarded with a distinctly satisfying thump for the trouble.
"If it comes to asking questions in the field, it would be best if everyone knows which ones are most worth asking."
Maker forbid he assume anyone will have been reading the mountains of publicly available reports.
"I wish I had more to give them, but I'll draw up notes for a briefing." Something occurs to him, and he adds: "If we have any agents who can read Tevene, it might be worth putting them near the top of the list. What they're looking for will be more or less irrelevant if they can't read the notes they find."
"Fenris," is a name promptly produced. Somewhere, a number of Forces division members who are under the impression that their Commander doesn't know their name much less their abilities feel a cold chill wash over them.
"He was one of the two who found the Venatori in the first place, and is likely capable."
"Excellent." Julius makes a note. "He's in Sashamiri as well, I know him a little. Ellis may also be worth sending; solid organizational skills, a griffon rider. I'll make a list of a few other names for your review."
Ellis is reliable, he thinks but doesn't say. Instead, his agreement takes some broader slant—nodding as he collects the closer chart book from Julius' desk and returns it under his arm.
"I suppose I don't have to tell you that it would be preferable everyone on that list know how to handle a weapon."
No, that's so self evident that it might pass for a kind of humor even without the brief slanting pull of his mouth to underscore it.
"Griffons,"—this much is serious, spurred by the mention of Ellis' expertise—"May prove useful in this. I'll see that whatever roster is pulled supports that."
Just a bit wry, of his first point: "Yes, I don't imagine this will be a mission well suited to Serah Niehaus. But I take your point. I'll get you that list of names within the day. It wouldn't do to waste this sort of opportunity." He doesn't think they're likely to get many windfalls like this one.
There's a kind of pleasure in this that's specific to a very particular kind of predator—the mongoose who chooses to wrestles snakes, the dog who chases wolves, or maybe thirty men stuffed into a single mast sailing boat looking to claw up the side of a merchant cargo ship. How dangerous the prospect; how doable. It sparks a rare kind of enthusiasm so visible in Flint that it naturally begs the question, How fucking dull must he find his other work?
Indeed there's a split second where it seems as if he means to linger there in Julius' company in an effort to find some further point to turn over for the simple satisfaction of it. The moment he thinks better of it and resolves otherwise is just as blatantly written as that sly good humor has been.
"Should anything else occur to you while arranging it, include some note."
Good talk, says his curt nod. Flint moves to dismiss himself promptly thereafter.
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"If it comes to asking questions in the field, it would be best if everyone knows which ones are most worth asking."
Maker forbid he assume anyone will have been reading the mountains of publicly available reports.
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"He was one of the two who found the Venatori in the first place, and is likely capable."
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"I suppose I don't have to tell you that it would be preferable everyone on that list know how to handle a weapon."
No, that's so self evident that it might pass for a kind of humor even without the brief slanting pull of his mouth to underscore it.
"Griffons,"—this much is serious, spurred by the mention of Ellis' expertise—"May prove useful in this. I'll see that whatever roster is pulled supports that."
no subject
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Indeed there's a split second where it seems as if he means to linger there in Julius' company in an effort to find some further point to turn over for the simple satisfaction of it. The moment he thinks better of it and resolves otherwise is just as blatantly written as that sly good humor has been.
"Should anything else occur to you while arranging it, include some note."
Good talk, says his curt nod. Flint moves to dismiss himself promptly thereafter.