[Closed] [A'Hunting we shall go

[judgemewhole]

WHO: James Norrington, Ingrid Kief, Bellamy Blake, Ellana Ashara
WHAT: A small band heads out to kill some blood mages, some Red Templars, and an errand or two.
WHEN: Back-dated, second week of Bloomingtide
WHERE: The Hinterlands
NOTES: There will be violence! Also, annoying climbing.

Travelling

The trip to the Hinterlands is positively boring, compared to other trips that have headed out recently. The templars that Norrington have brought with him chat with one another, chat with those traveling with them, and the mood - if not light, is at least comfortable and friendly.

Camping

Norrington places them in the Camp off in the Rebel Queen's Ravine - it will be a long hike inward from the valley to where the Red Templars were seen, but Norrington wants to do a through sweep of the valley. So camp is established, and people are free to mingle with one another as wanted.

Hunting

Those heading out to find the Red Templars will leave early enough in the day, as to have the element of surprise. Norrington stops the group right outside their first spotting, frowning as he hunkers down low.

He turns to the others, murmuring, "They're moving red lyrium - large shards of the stuff. Where the name of the Maker are they getting it?"

or

The blood mages are conducting some sort of ritual, on the far end of the valley, near where those ... rather strange cultists live. The advantage is theirs - they are atop a large hill.

Norrington frowns as he looks up the sides of the hill. "We need a distraction, so the rest can charge around the back. Any ideas?"

An Enchanter's Favor

On the second or third day, Norrington packs up his horse on his own, and calls out to the others, "I'm heading out for First Enchanter Vivienne. Does anyone wish to come along?"

Comments

[judgemewhole]

It does read as surprise - but there's something there that causes Norrington's eyebrow to raise. However, he's too distracted to really focus on it, as he looks at the letters once more.

"Yes, they must have ... " He looks down at the letters again, before he snorts, "Of course they were looking to combine forces. A blood mage as powerful as the one who murdered that entire village? Might even be a reckoning for the Venatori."

He shook his head a little, "But the rest of this is written in a language I don't understand -- I'll have to take it to the scholars I know. See if they can parse it together."

[nonsibi]

"A whole village, one man--it was blood magic either way."

Equating the murder of Norrington's mentor and the murder of innocents, condemning blood magic: this is the way to respond to these crimes. Bellamy's heavy tone suggests condemnation. He's back to staring at the letters again, too. If Norrington can't read what's written on the pages then he's not likely to be able to read it, either. History was his strong suit. He was never interested in foreign language. Would it be better to destroy the letters? Maybe. But it would be too obvious.

He decides, swiftly, what to do instead.

"Permission to speak to that, ser?" Bellamy draws himself up, grounds himself by dropping one hand to the pommel of his dagger. "If they were looking for those blood mages, and if there's some clue in those letters, then we should get them translated sooner rather than later, ser. We wait too long, the trail, if there is a trail, goes cold. Give me the names of your scholars and I'll see it done."

[judgemewhole]

"That it was, Templar. That it was." He stared down at the letters, his own hands slowly clenching around them. Memories flicked across his mind's eye, and everyone of them was drenched in the blood of people he considered a parental figure.

Bellamy's words draw his gaze up sharply, before he nodded his head, "Pel Ashara, of Clan Ashara. Lady Adelaide LeBlanc, of the Mage Council." He eyed the papers once more, his lips pressing together, "And if all else fails - go to Lady Montilyet. I have the Advisor's full backing to hunt down these monsters -- they will want to know we have a new lead, and I know Lady Josephine will know someone who can translate them."

Or, translate them herself.

He handed over all the letters but one, the one that was already readable. "Fastest horse you can ride, Blake. We can't have these falling into the wrong hands."

A thoughtful pause, "In fact ... I should send some more men with you - Murtogg! Mullroy! Front and center!"