[Somewhere, Wysteria makes a note in a little booklet. Just as smoothly, evidently untroubled by the effect of dire consequences on morale:]
Then perhaps we might begin with testing exposure to refined lyrium in the way that Templars use it. We have a number of them in Riftwatch—or people who once were Templars—, and might easily conduct a study to see if the effects and addictive qualities of refined lyrium on Rifters are consistent with those felt by a native Thedosian.
That might give us some further basis other than my arm on which to theorize the risk of raw lyrium exposure.
Is he? I've found him to be a perfectly agreeable gentleman.
[🥁.]
But good. Then perhaps we may at least rely on him as a foundation on which to build should no other Templar-adjacent sort of person be willing to volunteer. Good. [A small sound. Perhaps somewhere, Wysteria has cheerfully struck her remaining hand on her knee or a tabletop.] I think this is a very fine plan, Mister Dickerson. Well done.
Yes. [ A fine plan. His pauses are now occupied by speculation over who among them is likeliest to opt into addiction, the potential for nullifying aspects of their own Fade-fueled existence, and so on. ] Very scholarly.
no subject
Why exactly?
no subject
The existing literature on lyrium indicates a crippling outcome is all but guaranteed.
no subject
Then perhaps we might begin with testing exposure to refined lyrium in the way that Templars use it. We have a number of them in Riftwatch—or people who once were Templars—, and might easily conduct a study to see if the effects and addictive qualities of refined lyrium on Rifters are consistent with those felt by a native Thedosian.
That might give us some further basis other than my arm on which to theorize the risk of raw lyrium exposure.
no subject
[ By contrast. The toothed edge to his voice has eased without leaving entirely, trodden grass hesitant to reassume its shape. ]
And something I have been curious about besides.
no subject
I don't suppose you're well acquainted with any of the ex-Templars—or whatever it is they're calling themselves—currently among our company, are you?
no subject
no subject
[🥁.]
But good. Then perhaps we may at least rely on him as a foundation on which to build should no other Templar-adjacent sort of person be willing to volunteer. Good. [A small sound. Perhaps somewhere, Wysteria has cheerfully struck her remaining hand on her knee or a tabletop.] I think this is a very fine plan, Mister Dickerson. Well done.
no subject
no subject
Do you really think so?