faderift | MOSTLY CLOSED: Weisshaupt Fortress

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MOSTLY CLOSED: Weisshaupt Fortress

WHO: Anders, Herc, Ingrid, Kaisa, Mal Reynolds, Merrick, Merrill, Nathaniel, Samwise, Sera, Teren, Varric
WHAT: A friendly visit to Weisshaupt Fortress that will go very smoothly and involve zero bloodshed.
WHEN: Bloomingtide 29-30 for the closed portion, with travel time on either side.
WHERE: Weisshaupt Fortress, the Anderfels.
NOTES: This plot is 90% closed to the above-named characters, but there are open comments for before and after the main quest that are open to any characters who might travel to the Anderfels to serve as back-up without going to Weisshaupt.

No one has ever claimed that 'the Anderfels' is a particularly pretty name for a place, but it is somehow still too nice for the land itself. Bone-dry and blasted by hot, dusty winds for most of the year, the steppeland of the Anderfels has been harsh and unforgiving country since long before the Blights began. It is barren in every sense of the word: all greys and browns and blood-rust reds, the monotony broken more often by black outcroppings of rock than by greenery, with settlements few and far between. Even where blight has not turned the ground dark and toxic, it feels like a place people are not meant to live. Not anymore.

↠ The Walk There (Open, Mingle)
↠ Arrival at Weisshaupt (Closed, GMed)
↠ R&R&Demons (Closed, Mingle)
↠ Everything Goes To Shit (Closed, GMed)
↠ The Sprint Back (Open)

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Whatever's going on, it likely isn't anything good. Things that wake you up from sleep usually aren't, and so Merrill casts a barrier on their group (Jayne included, nameless Warden excluded). It's a precaution, and she figures it's an entirely understandable one, considering the state of things.

"Please," she adds, green eyes wide. She's nervous, but there's certainly the hope that having a young, scared woman implore the Warden will get him to tell them something of what's going on.

"Lemme guess." Mal takes a moment to hook a foot around his spear and tug it closer, sword belt still on cuz a man don't take that shit off when they're in a building with DEMONS. "Somth'n got loos what shouldn't."

Which- well. Called it. Called it back in the courtyard forever ago. Jayne finishes up his business with a muffled whuff and trots to heel at Mal's side.

Under the shadow of his helm, the warden's gaze shifts first to Nathaniel, and then to the others in turn--quick work, taking stock. In the hallway, there are other voices joining the din, arguments rising in pitch and fervency.

The warden in the crooked cloak reaches a decision at last, which he delivers as an ultimatum: "We talk on the way, or we talk not at all." But for all that firm conviction, he doesn't leave it there--and if it's the plainness of Merrill's please or the heft of Nathaniel's title that gets to him, who can say. "King Wilhelm's been deposed, imprisoned. The First Warden has taken temporary regency, and word's come that we're t--"

A scream from down the corridor cuts the rest of it short, followed by a distinctly inhuman roar. Now something has gotten loose that shouldn't.

"Demon," comes a warning shout from down that way, under the next roar, "DEMON," and the three wardens at the left flank tighten ranks, shields up, swords drawn. The others follow suit, filling in to form a stopper in the hall just beyond the doorway. There's room enough that the little Inquisition group could squeeze out and run off the way they were pointed, or stand and make this their fight.

Nathaniel takes his bow and quiver from Anders, strapping the latter on as he steps out the door.

"Anders to the rear. Mal to the front. Merrill, come with me."

He's been here before. Across the hall is a joined room, and he and Merrill can use it to come around to the other side of the demon and flank it. Without waiting to see if she's following, he darts across the hall.

Edited 2016-06-02 17:10 (UTC)

For the briefest moment, the expression on Anders' face at the instructions is a glare - the scream of demon has Justice riled up - and then it's gone and he's nodding.

"If there's a mage, please try to spare them!" he calls after Nate and Merrill as he moves, scooting through the doorway and planting himself behind the shield wall. The mages might not be at fault, and he wants to give them a chance. They could be victims of blood magic.

The oncoming distorted shape, on the other hand, is about to become the victim of ice magic as soon as it's in sight.

She casts another barrier, both for their party and any of the Wardens that she can catch in it. They're all going to need it to fight the demon, and if it turns out that they have to fight the Wardens, too... well. They'll deal with that then. Hopefully their choice to stay and fight will endear them to the Wardens somewhat, even though Merrill's mind is still reeling. The First Warden has taken place of the king, and she's fairly certain it's because of that Tevinter mage, because of Corypheus.

"Whatever happens," she murmurs to Nathaniel as they cross into the room, ready to cast, "we need to alert the rest of the Inquisition as to what we were just told." Human problems, unfortunately, are not just human problems. They shape the whole of Thedas, and when Corypheus may be behind the shaping? It's a problem for everyone.

"Called it." Should probably not have been the first thing out of Mal's mouth right then but. He totally called it. Saw this com'n because that is the kind of shit he gets dumped into often- well with less King-napping and more cargo and smuggling but- things don't go smooth. So of course somth'n was gonna go wrong and it was gonna go wrong in the worst possible way. But here we go. Demons. Vinty bastard pull'n strings literally or figuratively and where there'screepy Vints there's Coryphewhoever.

THat's shit he can't stab.

This? This he can stab.

"Jayne-" The hound flicks his ears forward, ready to pounce. "Mind the pretty one."

There's a moment where Jayne looks past the group to Merrill and Nathaniel, then back to Anders, then to Mal and whines. Which pretty one?

"Oh for- feathers. Mind the feathery one." Right. Jayne knew that, falling back to act as a buffer between whatever might come and Anders as Mal brings his spear to bear, bracing just before the Wardens. Soon as he got a clear shot, he'd throw.

The screamer had the count off: it's two demons, not one, and they come tearing around the corner. Distorted and distended, swollen in places, blunt in others, inhuman and brutal even in their movements. The glow deep in their distorted forms marks them: rage demons. Pure embodiment, physical anger.

The larger of the two--hulking, abominable--is slower, hindered, for now, by a more human shape. This is something happening in action, but if this was once a mage, she's lost in the demon, turned inside out.

The smaller demon tears its way forward with a roar. Anders' ice spell hits it first, a blast that staggers it; Merrill's barrier affronts it next. Wounded by the force, angered, the demon roars again, thrusts itself forward to swipe at the shields of the wardens barring the way.

Nathaniel hates rage demons. They keep setting his arrows on fire. Most of them can't be retrieved afterward. He leads Merrill through to the flank and immediately starts shooting, aiming for the weakened part where Anders' ice spell hit it. After that, his arrows are aimed at the larger demon, trying to slow it down even more.

"Maybe don't worry about sparing that mage!" It's too late for them, and it would put his group at risk. He will hope there are others who aren't lost. Right now he needs to focus on being a pretty, feathery, effective mage. At least rage demons are better than certain other ones, and he'd chosen the right deterrent. A pair of paralysis glyphs light up on the floor; hopefully at least one demon will be caught and his wall of useful Warden meatshields will find it easier to go stabby when a demon is stuck in place.

Definitely not. The fact that they are both the same type of demon, at least, is currently a boon. The barrier holds, and Merrill will keep an eye on it to recast, but for now she has another spell to boost their chances of success: ice weapons. From Nathaniel's arrows to Jayne's teeth, a frosty bite (pun intended) should help bring the demons down faster.

Mal don't got magic but he's got a spear and a mind to use it. A now glittering and icy spear which- shiny- helps him with the first solid lunge. Trapped as the smaller one is it's easy to find a ole and punch right on through, ice hissing and popping as it makes contact with the burning bastard. He twists and withdraws, stepping to the side for a better angle and a second thrust.

Nathaniel selects an arrow and shoots at the mage, taking care to aim for the throat or eye, if either is exposed. Best give her as quick a death as possible.

The smaller demon--snared in the grip of the glyphs, wounded by ice and by arrow and now by spear--shrieks, tearing blindly. Its panic gets it nowhere. Paralysis leaves it an easy target, and after Mal's second spearthrust, even its defense is a mere scrabble. The first of the wardens advance as two of their number fall on it, to finish what was started.

Now it's the larger demon, the mage. Caught between Nathaniel and Merril, Mal and Anders and Jeyne and the hidden away kitten, plus the wardens--the demon blazes like a brazier. Nathaniel's arrow bores into its throat; the demon staggers. Ice hisses, sizzles, melts and freezes and melts again--and the demon swells, with a bellow.

The ceiling beams crackle; the demon crackles. With a burst of savage energy, it bashes aside two of the wardens with a wide-flung clubbed arm. The blow splinters their shields, throws them into the wall--and it swings back again with that same arm, in the other direction, to do the same for that remaining first line of defense.

"That's not right." He means the swelling demon, at first. They're not supposed to get bigger like that, it's just not right. And then a moment later two Wardens are down and the others, if they're smart, will be dodging away, which means he's face-to-face with something that's inflating like the most gruesome sail ever.

The best way to deal with that? Mindblast. It's instinct when he's cornered anyway, and he casts quickly, staff slamming into the ground in front of him as if it could be some form of icy shield as well. It can't hurt, at least.

It certainly doesn't look right, but Merrill is more worried about the wardens and the fact that the ceiling beams seem Unhappy. Hopefully her barrier will keep the first of the guard alive -- in a lot of pain, probably, but alive.

Anders casts Mindblast and Merrill knows what comes next. They've done this a hundred times, back in Kirkwall. He blasts the demon back and Merrill casts a Misdirection (with the Shackling upgrade, of course) Hex, trying to make the demon less likely to actually hit any of them and less able to move quickly to do it. It's followed with another blast of ice magic; anything to keep the attention on them and not the downed wardens.

"Well."

Fuck.

"Jayne-" The hound whuffs, loping out to drag the Wardens out of the way- if they dead? He'll deal with it later. If not? They'll thank him. Win-win situation right there and that's the kind he likes.

It'd be better without the demon. Gives him the legroom to tuck his spear up against his side and get to work- he'd been darting and certain with the other one but this? This is a brute. Time to get bruty. Its a bastardization of several styles, not quite one, none too close to another, all darting jabs to herd the demon away from the wardens and the magefolk both. THey've only got the one meatshield now, and that's him. "Hey, ugly! Come on you pièce rembourrée de flammes fondu merde!"

He swats at the demon with the flat of his short sword. "Over here! At me, that's right-"

"At you? At you?" He's joined his ice to Merrill's, but Mal gets an aghast glance. "You can't think of anything better? Like 'die, die, die?' You have to yell about cheese and attacking you?"

Hero types. They all want to die, deep down, but it's got to be the most dramatic, epic death, and he has to heal them all afterward while they complain. Mal better not complain if he's yelling things like that.

"He called them melted flaming shit," Nathaniel clarifies at volume, shooting another arrow at the mage, aiming for the arm doing so much damage to the front lines. "Not cheese," he adds helpfully.

There's a pause in ice just long enough to renew barriers, mostly on Mal since he's decided to make himself a target. Light blue-white glyphs sprout up on the floor a moment later; as soon as the demon passes over them, ice will spring up and, hopefully, hold it in place for a moment.

"Is antagonizing it a good idea? I mean, it hits very hard!"

Antagonizing it is not a good idea, and, yes: it does hit very hard. Harder when it's angry, which, for a rage demon, is a constant state of being.

While anger is a good fuel, it is also a blindingly uncomplicated emotion. Narrow tunnel vision renders the demon less than able to account for all the many parts moving around it, arrows and spells and shouting, conversation that goes on at a level it cannot comprehend.

The demon answers Mal's challenge with a roar, all savagery and intent--but the jabs of the spear do drive it back, put it in easier range of Nathaniel's arrows. The sizzle of the ice confirms that strike, and as its shambling path crosses the glyphs on the floor, ice crackles up, encasing its lower form for at least a few moments. This time, its roar carries a desperate note, and it swipes wildly, at Mal, who is still closets--at whatever arrows fly at it--at the ice that binds it--at whatever it can reach. If any of those blows strike, it will be a miracle. Frozen, the demon is fading, sustained wounds draining at it. Even its furious straining only fissures the ice. No cracks show.

The wardens still standing have reformed their ranks--but they're hanging back, waiting this out. The ones knocked aside lay very still, dragged to relative safety by the brave Jeyne.

"You want it swing'n at you?" It's like they've never fought with a warrior before. Somth'n gets big and mad and start's hitt'n, you get big and mad and make it hit you first! Keep it off the magic folks. Herd'n a demon ain't at all like herd'n a bear or bait'n an ogre but the footwork's similar. Jab, swipe, duck, ohshitmotherfuck twist out of the way, rinse and repeat. Mal keeps up the barrage, hopping back out of the way before darting in again.

Thrust with the spear, slice with the shortsword. It's easier when the damn thing isn't moving.

"I got this, keep magick'n him!"

"Depends on if I have stone armor or not!" Magical stone armor, not otherwise -- she imagines that would be a bit difficult to put on and take off. Not that anyone but Anders has necessarily ever seen her do it to have any idea of what she's talking about.

More ice magic is piled on, Merrill gritting her teeth and ignoring the fact that the wardens have just decided not to help. It's irritating, but it can be dealt with when someone more shouty than her shouts about it. Until then-

"And- Detlef, I think we've got this, if you want to try the healing thing?"

Because those other wardens are either still and dead or something else, and she's not sure which.

The demon is most definitely slowing down, and while he thinks they could shatter it without much more from him, he's also fairly certain they have it contained.

"A rock fist might shatter it!" But even as he shouts back, he's turning to the nearest of the injured wardens, glad that Merrill's slip made it sound like she was just saying another word. The deception might not be that well done but he wants that flimsy shield anyway.

Anders kneels next to the first Warden and casts, seeing if he can help save the guy.

Of all the times to want to yell say the entire word at Mal, now is probably the worst. So Nathaniel bites his tongue, saving his breath and focus for shooting another sacrifical arrow that will get charred and burnt by the demon if the battle goes on longer than Merrill's ice weapon spell. He'll have to find a store room before long. At least the ones the demon flung away are salvageable.

Edited 2016-06-03 21:08 (UTC)

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