BREACH VALESKA'S WATCH

[faderifting]

WHO: Hercules, Ellana, Melys, Scipio, & Kaisa
WHAT: Checking on an old Deep Roads entrance to make sure everything is fine. Everything is not fine.
WHEN: Guardian 15
WHERE: Emprise du Lion - Valeska's Watch
NOTES: Closed quest log, featuring death and darkspawn.

For centuries, Valeska's Watch has been perpetually occupied by Grey Wardens who guard an entrance to the Deep Roads, which was used for the darkspawns' large-scale invasion of Orlais during the Third Blight. The Wardens collapsed the tunnel, but because of its size, concerns lingered that darkspawn would find a way through. The outpost was constructed on top of it so that the Wardens could, as the name implies, keep watch. Now, the Grey Wardens' withdrawal to the West has left Valeska's Watch empty and the entrance unguarded.

Comments

[serannas]

Despite the danger in dealing with darkspawn, Ellana volunteers for this job. She's a friend to the Wardens and not all of them are here in Emprise du Lion right now, so she'll help those who are with their task. Standing outside the locked door with her staff already in hand, she watches Melys work on the lock, shifting on her feet. Her heart is already thumping loudly at the thought of facing darkspawn, but better her than one of the villagers nearby.

Once Melys is done, Ellana will get a barrier ready to place over them. And then she'll raise her kerchief over her nose and mouth to avoid any stray darkspawn blood.

[aforethought]

She’s antsy.

This has just a little to do with dropping into the middle of a literal shitbasket of wardens, and a Dalish mage looks half again more like a bundled-up baby doe. But Melys didn’t sign on to the Inquisition for her own blessed happiness — a fact becoming more apparent by the minute.

“I’ve got it.” Near to a carnival trick as they’re like to catch this side of the Frostbacks, her juggling the picks about one-handed, but you pick up a few of those after a piss-bored winter minding forts. Her voice stays steady beneath the cloth mask, quiet to match the little clicks of the mechanism. Not like it matters, the fuckers already know they're there.

“Gonna get back soon as it pops.” Gives her enough time to get fingers on a blade.

Melys jerks her chin at Herc and Ellana in warning, and abruptly falls back when the door swings open onto the darkspawn charge. She trusts Ellana to put a barrier down, because there just ain't any real alternative to it. Bigotry can wait until they know the path's clear; there's no sense in holding the high ground if it's over a grave.

She'll dart back in shortly, doing her best to hamstring or slow the genlocks for Herc, and try to give Ellana the cover she needs to get at the archers. If cornered, though, she isn't taking hits for anyone else, and she spends a fair amount of time just trying to avoid tainted blood.

[twelvelabours]

"There's gonna be a few waiting for us," Herc speaks, low and quiet, Striker Eureka in his hand and Rebellion held up. And as soon as the lock clicks, well, he's doing like the lady suggested, but staying as far forward as he can to make sure he can catch their attention first.

"Come on, you ugly mongrels!" Clattering his hilt against his shield, Herc is determined to get and keep the attention off the women with him. Not because they're women, no - he's smarter than than - but because that is what he does, it's what he's good at, and because they're not wardens and they still offered to help. That isn't the kind of thing lightly dismissed or easily forgotten. The blade of Striker Eureka is engulfed in flame, roaring through the air with each swing and thrust.

Two genlocks lumber forward-- and the bastards ignore him, though Herc twists to hack with his sword at the hamstring of one, hobbling it, bashing it with his shield before twisting to try and catch the other other, leaving a gash in his side. He'd follow up, but there's a shriek at his back. Thing is, he loves a good fight. It's about the only thing he's really good at, even with the Calling dragging at him. He and he guards and he watches, and right now he drives the sword through the shriek's throat before it sags to the ground.

[serannas]

The barrier is laid down over the three of them as Melys is starting to step back, because it's better to get all three of them under it than for Ellana to cover them, then fall back even more. Her armor is the weakest, and in battle she has to strategize where to stand while she waits for her mana to come back.

She pulls her kerchief over her nose and tries to look past the genlocks for ranged fighters, but all the action is happening up here, and there's only so much Herc can do. She slams her staff into the ground and fires a spell at the second one further back, leaving the first for Melys. Herc is now occupied with a third, and she keeps throwing spells at the one she's picked until it groans and goes down. It doesn't take long.

With the path clear, Ellana can finally get in and see who else is there. Two archers stand across the room, but not close enough for a single spell. She focuses on one, sending a lightning bolt straight through its body and leaving it arched on its toes, trembling at the energy coursing through it.

[aforethought]

The nice thing on Darkspawn is that it ain't like some of the stories — they really can die. The bitch of it's in getting there.

The close one's keeling, not from pain but temporary distraction; the wide slash that Herc's left along its side has ripped through a little more muscle than the Taint can quickly mend. Its skin's already clotting ugly and black, but between that and its meat-ribboned legs, it'll be hours still before it's back to moving on-balance. Hours that Melys doesn't intend to give. This time when she darts in, it's for the kill, blade biting down a ragged slice through vein and trachea.

Maker help Thedas if more of these things start adopting the gorget.

She wedges out her blade from the genlock's meaty neck, searching for the others through the dim. Ellana's lit up with magic enough to match a funeral pyre, and Melys makes a mental note to revise that whole sweetling fawn assessment when they ain't all a few lucky chances away from nasty death.

Herc doesn't take long to spot either, not swinging that great flaming razor around — and it's only then she sees the shriek, and thank all their holy stars that he seems to have that handled, because she never even heard it coming.

It's all in the space of an instant, the snap decisions and vibrating pace of battle: Like moving too-quick through a frozen space. Before she knows it she's sprinting across the gloom, making for the active archer, praying all the while that it doesn't decide to fletch a few new feathers in her coat. She's not fast enough to keep it from turning and an arrow to knock, and unless something stops that bolt before she makes pace, it's going to go straight into her shoulder.

But that's not the arm that's holding a blade, not the one that's making to cut off the genlock's own, and abruptly there's one shivering electrified darkspawn and another screeching its head off without bow or hands.

guh I am so sorry, I thought I had this tracked :[

[twelvelabours]

They're not doing half badly, though there's not a moment for pause or praise. The shriek is dead, both of those burly bastards have gone down, and Melys is belting it over to one of the archers. Even with that handy spellwork, though, they can't count on that lasting too long. Herc moves to the remaining archer (the one with its hands remaining, at least) jumping across uneven rocks and a gap in the ground to reach the damn thing as fast as possible.

The flaming blade cuts through its skull and caves in its neck, and his shield batters its head all the more, before another hack sends the thing flying right off, the foul smell of smoldering darkspawn flesh cloying the stale air, and blood splattered across his face and his armour. It's awful, even when you're used to it, but there's worse things out there, and he's turning towards Melys her screaming monstrosity. "Finish it off, or you want a hand?"
Figures she can put it out of its misery, stooping to grab the arrows belonging to the archer, but he's heading over once he's got the arrows, anyway. Not much, but something. Someone might have a use for 'em.

"We should get going." Gotta meet up with the others, gotta get their job done.

[serannas]

While those two get up close and personal, Ellana hangs back, twirling her staff with one more spell before Hercules gets over to take care of that archer. Then she scans around them, making sure she hasn't missed anyone hiding behind pillars or rubble. She has no personal experience with darkspawn, and doesn't really know what they're capable of doing. It looks like the shriek at least was capable of precision hits.

Once the last one falls, she jogs forward to catch up with Hercules and Melys, her stomach churning when the smell of darkspawn corpses hits her nose, even through her kerchief.

"Ready. Any more up ahead?" she asks him, though after the question is asked, her gaze shifts to Melys to see if she's all right. Not that Ellana can really do anything besides hand her a health potion. She's never learned any magical healing.

[aforethought]

"I got it,"

She grunts, aiming a low kick at the thing's knee. It stumbles, and Melys' expression fills with a nasty breed of spite, before stabbing down again to end it quick. It doesn't pay to try and play with Darkspawn, much as right now she's sorely fucking tempted.

The noise finally dies with it, preserved briefly in the echoes bouncing from the ancient walls. She figures that's their presence pretty well announced; Herc's right to keep moving quick.

But damn if that arrow don't hurt a whole piece more than she'd care for. She sheathes the sword long enough to feel at the bolt with a wince. It hasn't gone in too deep, but she's not about to yank it out now, not when there's a chance of just working it in worse. Melys snaps the shaft off careful as she can, eyeing Ellana. When she reaches out for the potion, it's with a silent nod of gratitude. It'll keep her going well enough for now.

"Gonna get dark bad, we get much further in." She murmurs, gesturing to the long-gutted wall braziers. Everyone in South Reach knows the stories of how well elves see in the dark, but Melys figures she and Herc could use a hand there. "Y'all gonna keep those weapons lit?"

Between a flaming sword and a flaming staff, they ought to make out okay. A second to catch her breath, and her own blade's out again, teeth grinding down into a familiar routine: Ignore it, keep moving, always keep moving.

[twelvelabours]

Herc's glance to Ellana for handing over the potion is a glad one, as well, albeit tempered by their present circumstances. He's not much of a combat medic, save for the basics and what you pick up trying to stay alive when you're solo and there isn't someone better qualified along with you. One thing he does know is don't pull out an arrow, but Melys is already on that. Quietly, he asks, "you need to head back?"

The question comes with a nod to the injury. She's not a Warden, this isn't her fight. Longer the arrow head is left in there, foreign matter and all the rest, the longer they're playing with the possibility of an infection. If they could get it out he'd cauterise it, stop the blood, but that's hardly going to do a thing for them if they're sealing something in there. Best he could do is slice up her shoulder some to get the thing out. Not something he'd recommend, personally.

And, to Ellana, he could honestly say that there's always more, but this isn't the time for comedic theatrics. He stops, careful, paying attention. "None nearby," he advises, cautious. "But there's some around." Quite how close or how far, that he can't tell. Not yet, anyway.

"Better we're ready if something happens to these," he says, referring to the flaming weapons, and moving towards one of the braziers with Striker Eureka extended to light it up. "Even if they aren't close now, they could be later."

[serannas]

Ellana doesn't really know Melys at all beyond this mission, and yet her first thought is there's little chance of her heading back now. She seems the type to take down any enemy no matter her injuries. Sort of the philosophy of 'If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me.' She recognizes it because Merrick's like that. Maybe if Melys had a hand cut off like she did to that darkspawn, the result would be different, but she's not wailing about her injury and Ellana can't honestly say she wouldn't in her place.

"If anything does happen further in," she begins in response to Hercules's words, "I can do this." She rotates her wrist, palm up to allow an eerie blue-green flame to dance above her skin. But for now, lighting the braziers along the way with their weapons works too.