( closed ) player plot: the stars go waltzing

[eviscerates]

WHO: Adelaide, Araceli, Avery, Bellamy, Bruce, Ciri, Cosima, Daenerys, Jamie, Korrin, Lexa, Martel, Merrill, Ruby, Sabine, Teren.
WHAT: catch all log; the capture of shardbearers, their rescue, and related shenanigans.
WHEN: Gently timey wimey for flexibility, Team Rescue arrives at the outpost on the 10th.
WHERE: Orlais/Nevarra borders (roughly halfway between the Fields of Ghislain and Trevis), and then a Creepy Place.
NOTES: Log for the missing shardbearers player plot; ooc here & here. Only the travel threads for teams one and two are going up for now, the rest will go up on Friday :]b And to clarify - when I say party style, what I mean is subthread to your hearts content!
WARNINGS: HORROR THEMES. Abduction, experimentation/torture, forced ingestion of lyrium, implied past deaths/murder, violence.

SPEEDY LINKS

• TEAM ONE: travel to Craintellier
• TEAM ONE: rift two attempt & Venatori attack
• TEAM ONE: dungeons
• TEAM ONE: escape attempt — Cosima, Jamie & Lexa only
• TEAM TWO: travel to Craintellier
• TEAM TWO: post rift investigation — Adelaide, Bellamy & Sabine, Bruce, Korrin & Teren, Ciri & Merrill
• TEAM TWO: take the outpost — Attack & Distract & Stealthy & Stealy
• TEAM TWO: regroup & into the dungeons — plus a Lexa-shaped guest star
• ALL: finding your shardbearers
• ALL: boss fight
• ALL: epilogue & return to Skyhold — tba

click for bigger version. full map of Thedas here.

East of Perendale and south of Trevis, next to a river's winding course, there lies the bones of a fortress. It is an old and almost forgotten place, a dramatic, clawed seeming thing reaching up into the sky, harsh against the the rolling hills.

It is an ancient place, dating back to 660TE, a testament to an Empire suffering after civil war and grasping to restore its wealth and influence after it had been so shaken. It stands as a memory of grandeur, rather than an icon of it, and bears the marks of devastation and scarring that so much of the land suffered during the First Blight. It was all but abandoned thereafter, host only to the desperate and the greedy, and never for long. Once ornate mosaics now only hold flecks of gold, flakes that stubbornly resisted the hands of looters trying to pry them away. Other colours, reds, whites, greys and blacks, they all remain.

The site was chosen for its riches, sitting atop a mine that once held immense wealth, seams of gold that would bring wealth back into the Empire and help restore stability. Opulence, the central Tevinter staple (aside from slavery and blood magic, some might say).

But they dug too deep, and when the First Blight came so too did the darkspawn.

It has a new master, now, and he serves the Elder One. Parts of this stronghold may be in ruins now, but remember: it is not what lies on the surface that counts, but what lurks beneath it.


AD VICTORIAM, AD GLORIA.

Comments

TEAM ONE & TEAM TWO: here are your shard bearers.

[eviscerates]

Traps have been endured, Venatori have been slain, and there is the distant sound of the ground river that leads to the external waterfall echoing up from the mine below. Just how deep and tangled these dungeons might go is a mystery.

The dungeon where the missing party is held is dark, and smells of rotting straw and sickness. The room is cold, its two lanterns offering precious little in the way of light let alone heat, and the inhabitants are all shackled to the walls with long, heavy chains. Some will still suffering the effects of lyrium very badly, others are doing a little better, but they are all of them in need of water. (A barrel sits in one of the corners with wooden cups, but is out of reach of all the shard bearers.)

Simple enough to gather them up and move, but—

Ruby Lucas is not here.


( OOC: This thread is party style! Have an emotional reunion, take a moment to heal up and recover before the boss fight. Members of team one and two are welcome to do threadstarters, RUN FREE PRECIOUS ONE, RUN FREE. )

[thecookery]

It feels a little wrong being here, to be honest. Avery cares of course. She's glad to see them all alive. She's livid at seeing the condition they're in. But some of the others with her are their friends, family, lovers. The trip up here was literally the most interaction she'd ever had with any of these people.

So rather than rushing to anyone's side emotionally or making any dramatic declarations of revenge, she steps out of the way, allows others to reach them first, and goes over to inspect the water barrel. If it seems safe, she'll start distributing it around the room with quiet instructions to drink slowly. Not too much at once.

And those who want it and can stomach it also get a little of the food Burly sent the rescue party down with.

[gatheringstorm]

"Araceli! Kadan!" Once inside the dungeon, Korrin stops caring about everything else for the time being. The horrid smell and lack of light don't drive her back. If anything, they only fuel her determination to reach her captive love. Araceli has done nothing to deserve being trapped in this hell, and if Korrin has to princess-carry her out, she will. Once Lux streaks away from her and toward the wall, she follows.

Seeing those long, heavy chains, Korrin's eyes darken with rage, her eyes growing bright with angry tears. How dare they do this to her, to anyone? Her only regret is that she hasn't made the Venatori suffer nearly enough for this, but they will if she has to spend the rest of her days personally ensuring that. Sadly, she can't break them with her own bare hands or she would. But if the keys or Araceli's earrings aren't nearby, she'll raise her staff and use Stonefist to punch those chains apart. No one is going to spend one torturous minute trapped against that wall.

hover for translation

[foxsays]

It's been-- no she doesn't know, she doesn't want to know. There is only whatever she's tried to forget curling somewhere deep inside herself, the smell of misery about her, faces she doesn't know, an exhaustion that settles within her. Bone deep, stretching out and making itself at home. So easy to just let herself be dragged under by it when no one is coming, when she hasn't seen Rajani or Nerissa, Argyris or Brunilda or Eir. (When she remembers their names, when they don't slip past her. Are they dead, are they alive, are they hurting somewhere she can't see?)

The sound of her name rouses her; tormentors call her other things, she shuttered her heart to that early when she tried to store up the fight that they smothered. "Quién eres? Qué haces aquí?" She is so tired, oh she is so tired, drifting in and out when she can no longer keep track of the days, head too heavy to keep it up with pain thrumming along her left arm if she jostles it.

Lux starts barking, no, gekkering, that's her! That is the sound of his mistress that he's curled beside since he could fit in her pocket or be carried about in the palm of her hands, that's her. He flits back and forth, pawing anxiously at where she's held, at Korrin's legs and anyone else with her. That does get both eyes open, Araceli blinking through tears she thought she'd cried out.

"Lux? Ladrón?"

[gatheringstorm]

When those chains break, Korrin is right there to catch Araceli and support her as need be from then on. Seeing her love so worn down and broken causes a lump to form in her throat, resisting the urge to hold Araceli as close as she can for fear of hurting her. Lux, relentlessly coddled since she reunited with him outside, is ignored for now as Araceli has to be her focus. Her fingers shake as she reaches for her canteen to lift to Araceli's lips, not trusting whatever water is available off to the side. The mumbled words reach her ears, and she tries to keep her response calm, though her voice cracks despite herself.

"Lux is such a good boy, he showed us how to find you. Have some water, if you can swallow. I've something for the pain, too. I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore, Araceli. You have my word."

[foxsays]

Swallowing hurts, lips cracked as they are from each and every time she bit down on them, and any time she answered back too much for their liking. At first. At first, at first, at first, then it stopped, it wasn't-- was it easier? She chokes a few times, realising how empty her stomach is too when it feels like a kick in the gut, when there's no bread and salt. I am so far from the sea, it's forgotten me, I've forgotten it.

Lux presses his cold nose to her side, paws very carefully before moving to her right side where she can actually move her hand a little, butting his head into it until she strokes behind his ears hesitantly.

"I don't want potions," she says firmly, squirming back half a painful inch because she they gave her things that have muddled her head, and she wants her mother, wants her father, wants the sun and salt-spray on her skin. Wants to go home. Why do people keep looking at her like that? Lexa looked at her like it hurt too and she didn't even know Lexa until they were meant to close the rifts. That's what she was doing. She went to close some rifts, and she played cards and-- "Sirena?" That's the right word, isn't it? That face and that name, they fit together, don't they?

[gatheringstorm]

Hearing that word from Araceli causes that heart to beat faster and her voice cracks a little as she rushes to reply. "Yes, that's me. I'm your Sirena and you're my Kadan." She brushes her lips against that forehead, unable to prevent those tears from slipping out, sliding down her cheeks.

"Don't worry, I remember how you feel about potions." She has them on her in case someone else needs them or Araceli changes her mind, but they'll never, ever be forced. "I've brought poultices, nothing magical about them. Sit and I'll get them out. We've a little time to spare." Not much, but Korrin will take what they can get. She'll guide Araceli into sitting, if the latter will allow it. After what she's been through, her kadan is calling all the shots. "And then I'll destroy every last bastard that thought they could get away with this. I promise you that."

[foxsays]

Keeping her left arm tucked against her, she rolls her shoulders carefully to try to get some sort of feeling back into her limbs. She drops her head, takes a deep breath to try to steady herself enough to sort out of the bits and pieces. Kadan tugs at her, catches and pulls like a fish on a hook but the meaning slips through her fingers for now as she rubs her right hand over her face, mindful of where the left is. Where Korrin is. Where Lux is.

Before she sits, she does stand. Stretches her shaking trembling legs for a moment because she can. No one is going to come in now. No one is going to cuff her with a gauntleted hand, call her a wretch, make her taste her own blood. Slight enough that dragging her about wasn't hard on them but some part of her had hated it though she does have to sit. Araceli remembers being strong, her legs at the moment do not, so she takes the water and actually holds out her arm as much as she can, wondering what it might look like underneath.

"I'm--" What is she? Everything else has always been her own doing. A jump she didn't time, a guard she couldn't shake, a duel she got into willingly. Never frightened. Always laughing or baring her teeth. Keeping the right tongue in her mouth is hard when the sides of her throat are sticking together but chugging the water will have her retching it back up, she knows that well enough. "Just the wrist. Leave the thumb alone. You can't set a bone." Or she doesn't think she can, Bruce is a doctor sort of doctor but they don't have time for that, not if they need to fight.

[youwonscience]

Cosima is easy to miss, at first. She's curled up, shackled by one leg because she's so weak that eventually they didn't bother with more than that. She's cradling her useless left arm against her chest, but that's probably instinct rather than a deliberate attempt to keep it immobile. She's murmuring to herself and not really registering that they're being rescued. People she knows have, after all, been wandering in and out for some time now, given the way her hallucinations have manifested.

[thecookery]

Avery's not good with words. With people. With... feelings. She's told Cosima this very thing on multiple occasions.

So when she takes a knee in front of her, Avery hesitates just for a moment before saying straightforwardly, "We've brought healers. They'll tend to you in just a moment, and then we're leaving. Soon as we've got everyone." She frowns, reaching out to touch Cosima's knee very gently. "You should drink some water first though. Maybe try to eat something...

"--oh! And I think you lost this?"

She fumbles around in her bag for a moment, before pulling out Cosima's glasses and slowly putting them on her.

[youwonscience]

Cosima blinks, owlishly, as she readjusts to be able to see. Between her cough and some earlier screaming, her voice is raw, but she still manages: "Oh my god, you're alive." She reaches out with her right hand to very gently poke Avery's shoulder. "You're really here, that's... we were afraid..."

"We" is easier than "I," though also a reminder of how long it's been since she's seen Ruby at all.

[thecookery]

Awkwardly, Avery shrugs and says, "It was just some demons." And dozens of blood mages, but who's counting? Besides, those guys didn't even care enough to try to finish her off. Just left her for dead in the field with the rift. Their mistake, I guess.

"Now stop talking. Drink this first." She holds out a cup of water.

[youwonscience]

Obediently, she takes the water, trying not to wince as the motion inevitably jostles her other arm a little. Still, she drinks the water gratefully. "We just knew you weren't here when we arrived," she says once she's finished it. "We hoped you got away, but..."

It wasn't as if their captors were generous with information, after all.

[thecookery]

Avery... honestly isn't sure what to do with all this concern for her well-being? It's weird and kind of new, outside of a very small group of people back in Denerim, so she tries to breeze past it a bit with a, "Well, I did. And now I'm back, with help."

She nods to Adelaide. "Give that one a second to finish over there, and she'll have a look at that arm."

[apostasia]

Martel is a mess.

He'd been a mess when they'd been thrown into the cells in the first place; a difficult prospect in bringing down to capture, the Venatori had worked for his imprisonment and he wore their efforts with less and less dignity as captivity dragged out. Wears them poorly now, shackled pointlessly to the wall in no fit state to move himself any further, his most recognisable injury an ugly scrape along his throat where the medallion - where Adelaide's phylactery, likely somewhere with the rest of the effects taken from him - that had been recognised before this rescue had been violently cut from him.

He isn't unconscious, but they'd be forgiven for not realising.

[fleurdesel]

All of them injured and need tending to- but for this one moment Adelaide allows herself a slip in objectivity. She can triage the remainder of their captured fellows later, Martel? Is far, far too still and she recalls all too well the pool of blood in which she'd found his medallion. "Telquet-"

Breathing, Maker, please be breathing, be smirking, be wry and droll and tired of this as it is all very dull and he'd quite like to go along his way now if they'd hurry up and unchain him, thank you- It's what she'd expected. Not this. It takes a great force of will to keep her hands and voice steady as she lifts a hand to his throat, much like she had when last she'd seen him so injured.

[apostasia]

The sound he makes first is - no answer at all. A rasped breath that might have been a groan if he had more to give it, were the breaths he has not so shallow; the way he tilts away from her hands is nothing personal when it takes him longer than that to reorient himself in the moment that's actually happening and not whatever, wherever he'd gone in his head. His eyes open to dark slits and the quirk of his mouth is small but distinct, and -

"Adelaide," he murmurs, his voice rough from not disuse but ill-use, from the wound at his neck, from how raggedly he never wants to think about having screamed. His neck. His neck- "The tables have turned."

- at the worst possible moments, he is still capable of making the people who love him want to punch him in the face. If he isn't, it's because he's fucking dead.

[fleurdesel]

Alive. A moment of dizzying relief has her shoulders unwind, her composed mask crack with something that might be a beading of tears at her lashes or a trick of the limited light. She'll forever insist it's the second. "Hold still."

As though he has any choice, chained to the wall, as though he's fussing in the tent over being healed even though that has never truly been his way. The usual blue glow is the only normal element in this and there had been the thought, brief, crackling with hysterical humor that she'd swallowed down, that this is a reverse of their initial meeting.

And of course he says it. Of course it startles a wry snort out of her, puts a wry twist on her lips. "It is barely a scratch. Stop fussing."

[apostasia]

"I'll do my best," he murmurs, gently incredulous, of holding still. Moving seems as if it would require a great deal more effort than he presently cares to expend, and of barely a scratch -

The corners of his mouth lift, but it's an ugly thing to call a smile when he says, "Ah, well, we both know I've had worse."

(And that this, perhaps, is no more than he deserves.)

[fleurdesel]

"Hush, before I allow your Sabine to come and treat you instead." There would be some manner of bruising involved, most likely. The least she can do is close this wound before moving to the next. Moving him before she knows the extent of the damage is a risk she is unwilling to take. Cool blue mist flows over his skin, seeking out the surface hurts, probing deeper for the worst of it.

"I am going to have to repair the chain on your medallion."

[chainlightning]

Merrill is no healer, at least not as far as magic is concerned. She does what she can, helping with poultices and potions, with cleaning up blood. She is a shoulder to lean on for those who want to return to the surface, a guardian against any Venatori that remain. Many of those who were taken are her friends, people she loves.

Martel, though, he is her brother. Once Adelaide has healed the worst of it, enough that Martel can be moved and Adelaide has moved on to other patients, Merrill is there. She offers him her arm, as Martel did to her in the Emprise, with a soft, worried smile.

"Lethallin, when we first met, I think both of us thought this situation might be reversed someday. Not- like this."

Martel was supposed to be the dashing, heroic rescuer. Not Merrill.

[apostasia]

He repeats the elven word quietly to himself, absently; they wouldn't credit it, he thinks, in Elenia. (Not 'at home'. Never that.) All of these good-hearted women - not gentle, truly, but good-hearted - hurrying to his side. To his rescue. That anyone would come to his rescue at all. That anyone, for that matter, would think of him as rescuer, either. If Sparhawk could see him now, brought low and undeservedly raised up again -

"You didn't need my seal in Orlais," he murmurs, dried blood and sweat on the hand that he puts to her arm, reluctant to give her small frame his weight and unable to do other than lean regardless. "I was terribly proud."

[chainlightning]

You'll put your weight on her and you'll like it, Martel. Merrill has her staff in the other hand, a prop for the both of them. There is some dried blood on his face still, too; it doesn't stop her from shifting enough to press a kiss there. He is her brother, her clan. She will always come for him, if she can, and she has no doubt that he would do the same for her.

"I had to go to an Avvar hold halfway through. That probably helped." Asher is probably terribly disappointed that she didn't get in that much trouble because he had to go and die. "I'd like to hold onto it, though. If that's okay?"

[apostasia]

"Keep it," he says, his arms long enough that he can reach around her - the sharply in-drawn breath when he does it, they can ignore - to put his hand as well on the staff and rest more of his weight there than on her smaller form as he does. "I prefer knowing you have it."

It isn't a magical talisman, it might not do her any good at all, in the end -

Still. It's a small thing, but he can do it.

[chainlightning]

There is a frown at the pained breath, but at least he's moving. She's more careful with her movements now that he's holding the staff too, making sure he's moving with her.

"Maybe I'll put it on a necklace. That way I'll always have it."

And if she's knocked out and someone is horrible and tries to steal her belongings, they'll see it and know they Fucked Up.