faderift | A FOOL'S ERRAND

Assignment: Use Garahel and a healer's eye to look for any signs of red lyrium in town. Anders is to use literally any name but "Anders".

Notable information:

A young man displays skin and eye irritations beyond those expected of a peasant's life. He goes out of his way to avoid the pair.

Garahel will trigger on the scent of red lyrium at several village locations, including the town well.

A pregnant mother hasn't been sleeping at night, and blames it on the howling winds.

Inessa will be met with open curiousity — much of it benignly puzzled. These people have never seen an elf before.

Both mages will meet with less fear than might be expected. Nonetheless, a villager will warn that it'd be safer if they kept moving. It doesn't seem to be a threat.

OOC Notes: Feel free to handwave as much or as little of this as you'd like, and generally use the thread for whatever talky purposes you want! If you want/need me to NPC, just ping me on plurk and I'll drop in.

Edited 2017-05-08 10:34 (UTC)

The stares are a little strange; for much of Thedas, elves are always beneath notice. At least being a mage as well as a Grey Warden has made Inessa stand out enough beforehand to accept the attention without comment. Whatever she thinks of it will not be stated, not here and not now. There are more pressing matters at hand than her own welfare, and she can handle a little curiosity. As for safety, they didn't track Red Templars in the pursuit of such.

Remaining at Anders' side, she nods for Garahel to take point. Her loyal mabari snaps into work-mode, no playfulness about him while he sniffs around that dangerous substance. As they approach the town well, he lets out a low growl, tensing up and not moving any closer. Narrowing her eyes, Inessa steps forward stares downward into said well.

"...oh, Maker."

Edited 2017-05-08 14:45 (UTC)

He's not getting the normal icy looks the staff and robes tend to bring. It's nice, and it means he's feeling comfortable enough that he's let Purrelden out of her pouch and up onto his shoulder. The cat, however, is not helping them find anything which means he's with Inessa in following Garahel.

The growl brings him to peer into the well too, expression neutral as he sees... darkness and water. Anders glances at Inessa, glances back at the well, glances back at her, looks at the dog, and then tilts his head to give her a confused look.

"That growl means something in particular, I take it?" As he's looking at Inessa, he can see someone walk toward the well and make an abrupt turn around. That gets his frown. The young man is walking away at a pretty steady pace.

"...Don't look now, but there's someone clearly trying to avoid us. Something's wrong with his skin."

Garahel's growls are well-known to her, all of them. This is one she knows well, though her elven eyes help confirm it regardless. "It means red lyrium is down there, Anders." Inessa's voice is tense but quiet, not wanting to alarm anyone around them. Red lyrium anywhere is terrible enough, but in a town's drinking water? It couldn't be in a worse location, or a coincidence in any way.

She's about to say more, but Anders' news diverts her attention. So of course she has to look anyway, though tries to do it without turning her head too much, more out of the corner of her eye. A frown curves her lips as she eases away from the edge of the well. "Shall we speak with him, then? I'll follow your lead on this one. You're more a healer than I." Not only more skilled, but trained in dealing with difficult patients. That will likely be relevant now.

Shit. Red lyrium in the water, and someone avoiding him. Anders presses his lips together, trying to weigh the options quickly.

"Do we have any options for the well right now? Otherwise, we should follow him." A beat. "And warn the others not to drink the water here. Maker, but I'm going to have a headache of a time if everyone's exposed."

He's ready to move if the answer is no, and frankly, he expects it to be. There's nothing they can drop into the well to clear up the water.

"The well cannot be salvaged." Red lyrium in the water? No, there's not saving that. They'll need a new well entirely. "We should energize what we can to seal it, though we can take the time to speak with him first."

She nods for them to move onward, at least for now. They can return soon enough to seal the well, but just in case, she quickly activates her sending crystal to leave a brief warning for the others.

Kester Hayes isn't small, and Damp isn't an easy town to get lost in. There are no winding streets or dense crowds with which one might disappear. In fact, those passing through grant him a notably wide berth as he goes.

But he seems well-aware he's being followed, leads them straight back towards the direction of their own camp. When they reach the edge of the village he at once turns sharp, stance defensive. Empty buckets swing from the pole slung about his shoulders.

"The fuck do you want?"

He's glaring bloody murder, but the effect's a bit cut by the rheumy weep of one eye.

He feels like swearing, a lot, because there are going to be a lot of casualties in this village, but right now they need to learn what they can and maybe see what they can do after.

"Another cat, peace for all, freedom for all, equality for all, a nice bottle of wine and a really good meal with someone important to me, but if you're asking what I want right now, I'd like to know why you were avoiding us. Clearly, too. And why the rest of the villagers are giving you room. And possibly what happened to your eye, because I'm a healer and I may be able to see to it."

They've got him alone. It's best to offer something that will benefit the guy, even if Anders isn't sure he can help everything with the look of him.

His gaze narrows, shoots between the pair.

"Because you talk like a bloody ponce, or because you come in here acting like you can shove us around?" He spits in the dirt, "Inquisition, my ass. Used to just call it apostate."

His fingers curl around the pole, head tips down bullish.

"Oughta take your friends and get out of town."

Inessa knows she doesn't cut an especially imposing figure, but her mabari is perhaps a different matter. Garahel places himself between her and the man they're questioning, not closing in without a word from his mistress but sniffing intently from his point.

She speaks up, her tone civil but cool. "We will do so when our investigation concludes. It is not our intent to 'shove' you around, but provide aid where it is needed. You cannot deny there is need."

"And not all of us are Inquisition."

If he has a problem with that organization, they have a point around it. Unless his issue is mages and then Anders couldn't care less about this man or his problems.

"We came in here after people who would hurt others, and to offer help along the way. Which is what we're doing. There's no shoving going on. That you think there is, though, is interesting."

He's calm, though he's ready to pull out his staff in defense at any moment. Likely everyone here is on red lyrium, which means they may all be aggressive with less ability to truly think about what's going on.

"Yeah? Say it to someone who cares. Try the fucking Fade."

It's definitely mages. Which is kind of ironic, for a guy wielding a stick, but Kester's life has never afforded a lot of time for self-examination. Exhibit B: The skittish way he steps back from Garahel, even while trying to stand his ground.

"Don't need your help. Don't want your aid. Just need your lot to leave the rest of us alone. It ain't right."

He's the first in the town to show any open hostility, least of all for this particular subject.

Kester can be as surly and bigoted as he wants, but all that does is make Inessa even more determined not to react. She's heard worse, far worse; this is not going to faze her.

"The condition of your skin and eyes say otherwise, and you must know it. Did that come of drinking the well water?" Or are there more sources of red lyrium planted throughout? Her tone is calm, giving the impression that she's just here for answers and the sooner she gets them, the sooner he'll be left alone.

"...And what about help from us isn't right?"

That's a hint right there that something else might be going on here. Is the guy mixing them with the rumored red templars in the area? Or is there mage activity that's got the man frightened? Anders can't tell if this is just the usual stupid hatred of mages or if it's something that has some basis.

"Everyone drinks the water," He snaps at Inessa, but there's a cornered look in his eyes; the expression of a hunted deer, one that knows it's running out of cliff. "Skin's just fine. Maybe you'd know it, you'd ever done an ounce of real work —"

His head shakes, sharp.

"— Ain't right, coming and ordering around normal folk. Doing whatever you please. Everyone acting like it's all just fine, long as you toss them a bone here and there."

"Like magic means you some kinda damn king."

This close, it's easier to see his youth for what it is; behind the thatch of black stubble, shoulders round with muscle, he's barely out of his teens — and trying desperately hard not to look it.

"It doesn't and that is not a claim I have ever made." Her demeanor remains on the mild side, even as she has to step forward enough to stroke Garahel and keep him from examining his target more closely. The mabari doesn't move his gaze for a moment, though, his entire demeanor screaming tension.

"You have noticed changes. You may not want to voice them, but you're aware all the same." Her tone softens a touch at noting that fear in his eyes. "We are here because of those changes, and we mean to stop them if we can. Whatever you can tell us will help us understand what has happened. When we have uncovered the truth, we will do what we can to aid and then depart. You have my word as a Grey Warden."

"I have spent my free life serving and helping. Which is why I'm here, offering to help heal you, not commanding you to let me heal you. We're not standing in your way."

The rest, Inessa's said. Anders has kept his voice and expression calm, but this is an example of the headache of Andrastianism - this man has been taught to fear and hate mages and expect them to want to rule. Never mind what they're actually doing. He's chosen willful ignorance over the obvious and it's frustrating.

"If you'd like help with the issues you know are there, talk with us."

His grip tenses every time there's an I or me. Kester's uninterested in hearing about what makes these strangers so different, but that there's a difference to draw at all is —

— Well, it's a little strange, isn't it? The prejudice he speaks of isn't couched in the typical Chantry vagueries of sin and serving man. Neither has anyone else in the village seemed to share it. If he's been taught it, where did he learn?

Perhaps it's not so strange at all. This far out in the sticks, apostates aren't precisely unheard of; someone of use (or an influential family) might have been sheltered, even before the Circles broke. For a town in a violent stretch of land, Damp's development points to a period of relative peace, towards some prosperity difficult to square with its surroundings.

One mage could make a lot of difference out here.

"Already said, don't want your fucking help. You wanna do anyone an ounce of good, you take her with you when you go."

He tips the pole, lets the buckets go sloshing to ground, turns on his heel — and books it away from them both. An expensive escape route, an irrational one. Good slat-buckets take time to make.

Truth be told, at this point Inessa wasn't expecting the conversation to end well. She watches Kester go with a sigh, patting Garahel as the mabari begins to relax once more. He remains alert, though, that tension subsiding a great deal but not truly fading.

"I suppose that went as well as it possibly could, all things considered. We should see to the well and then let Garahel investigate further. Somehow, I doubt this is the only instance of red lyrium in the area."

He exhales as the man dashes off. Is Inessa the Her? Anders doesn't think so. But he's not going to get any further answers from that guy any time soon.

"It could have gone better," he says, "but it also could have gone much worse. I do prefer encounters when no one tries to stab me."

Purrelden gets a pat and then Anders nods to Garahel. "All right. What can you find for us, boy?"

"Let us hope our luck holds, then. If that's the most hostility we encounter, I'll take it."

Inessa has her doubts, but she'd rather not voice them and tempt fate. As Garahel sniffs around for another lead, she'll take a look around before energizing some planks to cover the well. They'll have to explain it to the townsfolk, but when the other option is letting them ingest what is literally toxic....

He watches her work, frowning. It's needed. They can't let the villagers be further exposed. But at the same time, people need water.

"They need water," he says slowly. "Can Garahel find a place that's free of red lyrium? Between the two of us we may be able to put together another well. Rather, we need to. Even with the contaminant, water is too crucial for them to go without."

At that, Inessa actually smiles. "We certainly will. There's a Creation spell I learned in the Western Approach, to create a spring. If we can find a hollow in an untainted spot, it will fill to become a pool. Garahel, let's find one such location, shall we?"

Garahel wags his tail and barks, eager to take a break from red lyrium hunting. He sniffs around for a little while before heading a little further away and pausing to look back, waiting for them.

"Would you mind teaching me it?" Another spell that would be invaluable for people. There's so much knowledge out there and they can make so many lives better. They just have to show people this before the Chantry wins.

Anders follows Garahel promptly, keeping Purrelden up on his shoulder. They don't need any playing animals right now. Nor does he need to find out what happens when a cat is exposed to red lyrium.

When the mabari stops, Anders raises an eyebrow at Inessa. "Here?"

"Further, if you please. We want it as far from the well as possible." Garahel grunts his agreement, then leads them further off. Inessa glances over and nods readily in response. "Of course. Practical spells, not just those used for combat, should always be passed on."

When her mabari reaches a spot sufficiently far from the tainted sources he senses, Inessa bends down to trace glyphs on the earth. She leaves enough room for Anders to see what she's doing, then stands and reaches for her staff. Striking the glyph with her staff, she steps back as a spring promptly bursts forth from the spot. The water itself is entirely untainted, a pleasant contrast to the well. "It is mundane water in all respects; the spell only brings it into being, not controls it."

A FOOL'S ERRAND | Closed.

INESSA & ANDERS - Team "Catdog"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)