Aleron Darton (
lifeofendurance) wrote in
faderift2016-08-25 01:08 am
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[Closed] The Order's Obligations
WHO: Aleron Darton, Malcolm Reed, Inessa, Bruce Not-Banner, Cade Harimann, Ingrid Kief, Jeannot Mercier, Sadira, Bethany Hawke, npc templars.
WHAT: Templars have been asked to clear out suspicious mages squatting in the old Circle Tower. The group is sniffing out the truth.
WHEN: August 15-20 (Backdated a smidge)
WHERE: Perendale, Nevarra
NOTES: More information about the plot may be found here. A link is available on that page for the original war table wiki page. Feel free to inject any local npcs you like. IC signups are over here.
WHAT: Templars have been asked to clear out suspicious mages squatting in the old Circle Tower. The group is sniffing out the truth.
WHEN: August 15-20 (Backdated a smidge)
WHERE: Perendale, Nevarra
NOTES: More information about the plot may be found here. A link is available on that page for the original war table wiki page. Feel free to inject any local npcs you like. IC signups are over here.
The road to Perendale proves less than interesting. Dusty and bare rock, with the odd silver mine to break up the monotony of the road. A peculiar strain of goats are native to the area and they do not seem to care for strangers on the road. They express their displeasure by rushing the Inquisition's horses and butting them in the legs. Annoying, but thank the Maker, not so aggressive and violent to put an end to the travel days.
The road itself begins moving north through Orlais then turns west. There is something small of interest, however. Perhaps. If one is knowledgeable enough and paying attention. The houses en route have a markedly Orlesian style to them. The odd lion battles a dragon in statuary along the way. Clearly the territory used to belong to Nevarra's southern neighbor, lost in an ongoing squabble between the two.
Perendale itself manifests its Orlesian heritage all over the city. The main gates boast lions rampant, entrenched in battle against dragons. Residences and shops are painted in the same lively colors that one would expect to see in any number of Orlais' towns. Thus ends the similarity. There are no gilded masks anywhere to be seen on the occupants, however, the mode of dress is not outlandish. The accents rippling through the air are not of the lilting elision one hears in Val Royeaux, but far closer to matching that of Seeker Pentaghast. Even the smells wafting out of the local taverns are different, rich and spicy; not a whiff of some overblown perfume to be had. The streets are cobbled and moderately clean, at least in the better quarters of the city.
And off in the distance, just outside the city walls, stands the abandoned Circle Tower, with faint infrequent lights flickering in the windows.
En Route
Well, at least it isn't bears.
Besides, it was excellent practice.
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Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a bit of jerky and tossed it to the mabari, before offering her water sack to Inessa. "If this is the largest of our problems, I am going to consider myself lucky. Goats are annoying but they aren't demons."
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Lions and Tigers and Goats, Oh My!
"Maker bless you, Bethany. I'd have not liked to return the Inquisition's mounts in poor condition." Especially not having to explain that they'd been battered by goats of all things. "I hadn't thought a war horse would be needed or I'd have brought Valiente instead." His strong willed companion would have happily delivered enough kicks and stomps to deter any further aggression.
He watches as yet another of the creatures attempts to butt at his sweetheart's mount, only to meet with barrier resistance and stagger off shaking its head. "I suppose we ought take down a couple of them in earnest and dine on roast chevon tonight."
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His horse is fussy as well, an ornery mare who has no problem nipping at others who get too close. She spooks at the slightest provocation, dances around tossing her head when she feels constricted, and always wants to be nearly up the arse of Aleron's horse, whom she follows behind at such a nonexistent distance that Cade is perpetually exasperated and embarrassed. Reining her away is pointless, since she'll just make a nuisance of herself until he allows her back.
It seems whoever chose the horses found him a kindred spirit.
"Rather ride one of the goats," he mutters under his breath as he's jostled yet again, blotting ink across an otherwise detailed description of the local architecture.
Re: Lions and Tigers and Goats, Oh My!
She dimpled up at him, before she shook her head, "Oh no, I wouldn't want Valiente be hurt. Even if it was just stomping on a goat's head." She shivered slightly, even as she lifted up another force field.
"Yes, well ... only the ones that won't give up. Those ones are clearly malicious." She stated primly.
dracolisk troubles 101
Still, a mission was a mission, so here was Bruce mostly trailing behind the team for the most part. The dracolisk had of course followed him since Bruce was never sure how well it could behave if he left it alone for so many day. And since it was already here, it only made sense to ride it as well despite whatever reservations Bruce had about it. The mission here was the important thing, so he'd just have to deal with it.
For the most part the dracolisk poses no issues to the others, though during breaks it might be found following Bruce a little too much instead of eating or doing whatever else mounts usually did in their rest. At times Bruce attempts to get it to stop, though it pretty much ends in the dracolisk sitting down on its back like a dog instead of anything else more productive.
This journey was going to be a long one.
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"How did you even train it to do something like that?"
She spoke from a small distance away, opting to keep a few lengths between them just in case the lizard-like horse was sensitive to people approaching what was very clearly its rider and possibly trainer.
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"I didn't teach it." In fact, he hadn't really taught it anything - the only thing he had been trying to teach was for it to stop, which well... led to the current situation he was in right now. And with as comfortable as it seemed to be sitting down it didn't look like it was inclined to stand back up anytime soon, so she was safe from... whatever she might be imagining.
He turns his gaze back to stare at the dracolisk, arms crossed over his chest as he debates on what to do next. Or maybe he should just sign this off as another lost cause for the day.
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"Not yours, is that so?" The damned thing is like a duckling to a mother. Milady stays on the side of the horse away from the dracolisk, not that the dog has much fear of something that isn't attacking, but dracolisk mounts are unusual to say the least. She'll be keeping an eye on it, that's for sure. "Why, I believe it practically has your name branded to its hide."
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"Still not mine," he returns, politely but also very pointedly. "I couldn't leave it in camp to cause a ruckus when I'm not around." He was still trying on that account - there had been some progress, but not enough where he could leave it alone for a couple of days without expecting something to blow up or whatever it is that the dracolisk attempted to do. No, it was easier to just bring it along for the mission.
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Investigation
"It's best if we take some rest and acquire more information before we delve into lending our requested aid." He fixes a stern look at the youngest of the Templars to have tagged along. "There is to be no kicking down doors or impromptu interrogations. Well will acquire the full facts of the situation and make our decisions based on truth. Make whatever sleeping arrangements suit you and we will reconvene in the morning to discuss what we've learned."
It won't take long to piece together a full picture. The locals don't object to Mortalitasi, the good mages who tend their honored dead. It's those other ones who came from the tower and didn't have the decency to clear out when the others did. Stories of rudeness and extreme suspicion on the part of the citizenry are rampant. It wasn't good enough for the mages to just leave the streets and stay away from Maker-fearing good people. They went and hauled up in that tower of theirs and barricaded it. Andraste preserve them, everyone just knows they're plotting to burn the city down.
The oft repeated plea becomes, "Won't you do something about them?"
What's curiously absent in the gossipy people are any reports of mages taking action in defense of themselves. No fireballs, no walls of ice, not even a sharp word or a well-deserved slap across someone's face. If anything it's been people trying to go about their business, buying food, washing clothes, that are being run off from public spaces.
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She'll return to the inn to decompress a little before turning in for the night, picking a far corner. Members of the investigation are welcome to join her, she's just utterly done with talking to locals right now. Garahel plops down to pre-empt belly rubs by rolling onto his back.
In the morning, that cool demeanor remains as Inessa describes what she's seen and heard. Her arms are crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. "These mages have done no wrong. They have not gone out of their way to antagonize anyone, merely survive as best they can. And yet, everyone believes them to be on the verge of harming the city. The sooner we help them depart, the better."
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As he thanks the last person who he had spoken to he glances over to the Warden to see if she's done with her share of questions as well. He's gotten a fair bit of stuff on his end and it would be good to check things out with her just to make sure that the important things lined up with each other.
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Investigation
Well that, and she wants to make sure he's taken care of properly. Eating, sleeping, affectionate hand-holding to bolster his spirits up.
The Help
That said, he effectively takes on the role of the Seekers' valet while they're traveling. Largely an unseen and unheard presence, he ensures the horses are cared for, he runs messages, he helps the party stay organized, and, naturally, continues to keep a log of the journey whenever he has time to sit and write.
He's put up in a small servants' room off the same hallway as Aleron and Malcolm, and is almost too vigilant in being at their beck and call. He doesn't resent it a bit; on the contrary, he seems almost to thrive in the role.
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Reading nearby, Inessa only glances over briefly to be sure his pestering isn't unwanted. If it is, she'll call him over.
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At the Tower
Given what news they've acquired in the city proper, it's questionable how kindly a group of anyone's arrival will be taken by the tower's occupants. Not at all unreasonable are the glyphs placed on the approach, their faint glowing marks a warning to keep everyone away. None of them appear to be explosive or damaging, but peeling them away would be safer than stomping across and barging in the front door.
The group's arrival has been noticed, as evidenced by the movement of lights on the lowest ground floor, nearest the entry. Hard to say how many, as the locals were too diverse in their approximated numbers inside. Everything was given from 5 senior enchanters to 1000 well-armed battlemages. There is at the very least a dozen distinct lights inside and one very ancient fellow hauled up on the walls.
It's that man who calls out, "Just go away and leave us alone! That's what you want from us, isn't it?"
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She pitched her voice to calmness as well, lifting up her hand to form a small fireball there. "We're fellow Mages, come to make sure that you have come to no harm - and if at all possible - we would like you to come with us. For your own safety."
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The Return
It's a slow-moving caravan of people on the road south, away from the Blasted Hills. Wyvern shrieks can be heard echoing off the rocky terrain, but come scurrying out to launch an attack.
No, it's monsters of a different variety that come after the group. Mob mentality takes hold so easily and grows rapidly.
Within two hours of leaving Perendale, a group of some four dozen disgruntled Nevarrans have caught up to the group. They are brandishing base weapons such as hoes and shovels, and at least one butcher in his bloody apron waving a knife. Their shouting only creates a din of noise that offers no clarity as to what their complaint is, beyond they are unhappy with the mage departure. If someone doesn't talk them down, and quickly, matters could get very ugly and bloody fast. The protestors are outnumbered, but only just
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With that, he turns his horse, whistles for his dog, and plants himself in the path of the Nevarrans. In full Seeker regalia, the symbol of the Watchful Eye emblazoned on him, he hopes to quell this group before anything unfortunate should happen. His voice is calm but strong, trying to be heard over the din without resorting to shouting like a madman.
"Good people of Perendale, come to order--what quarrel have you with the Inquisition?" The din lessens only somewhat. "I say, I will have order! Stay your hands and your voices and let us settle the matter in peace." Blood mob mentality, they might not even have a single person to speak for them. Charles whinnies and stamps a foot into the ground, and Milady's hackles are raised. Malcolm, thankfully, keeps any weapons of his sheathed for the moment.
And if they don't want order or peace, he really hopes someone else has decided to join his one-man blockade.
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Hoping the presence of a Seeker -well, two of them- will be enough to quell the mob mentality, the young Warden remains calm, gesturing for her mabari to stay back. He won't attack without her say-so.
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