MOSTLY CLOSED: Weisshaupt Fortress

[visus]

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)

Comments

Merrick, Ingrid, Samwise and Teren

[dalishious]

Too high strung and anxious to sleep, Merrick had been curled up in the corner near a candle, working on his latest carving when he heard the noise. He's on his feet swiftly, and he stuffs the carving (a pendant with a bow and arrow on it) into a pouch on his belt before he goes to investigate.

He fully intends on following the Wardens in secret, to spy on what they're up to, but then someone is at the door and his blades are out immediately. Reflex.

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam had curled up and fallen asleep immediately. He still may not have been sure about any of this, but after the long trek to Weisshaupt, a hot meal and a (relatively) soft bed indoors had been more than welcome, and he'd taken to it gratefully.

But he wakes with a start at the knock on the door. He has no intention of disobeying, and obediently tumbles out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Instinctively, his gaze turns to Merrick (the only elf in the group, and therefore obviously the leader) for guidance on how to proceed. When he sees Merrick's blades gripped tight in his hands, his eyes open wide, and he shuffles behind him slightly, darting a worried look at the Wardens at the door.

[ingrid_kief]

Ingrid, fortunately, was the one who had some familiarity with the fortress at Weisshaupt. Familiarity that kept her from sleeping well that night, her mind too flooded with bittersweet memories as she toyed with the pendant around her neck.

She noticed the two smallest members of the group tensing, drawing weapons at the knock. She sighed.
"Relax. I doubt it is of anything to worry about. Allow me."

She went to answer it.
"Yes? What is it?" she asked.

[doneisdone]

Teren had made it her business to consort with the other Wardens, and it was actually she who had knocked, knowing there were three within who had ventured from Skyhold.
"Ruckus," she helpfully explained, peering into the room at the others, "everyone up, and close to me. I expect nothing good will come of this." Her eyes landed on Merrick, and then almost pityingly on Sam. Ingrid she suspected could hold her own, and she'd heard things about Merrick, but... well. The other one. She'd look after him.

[visus]

Behind Teren come the sound of boots striking flagstones, near enough to be loud even over the aforementioned ruckus, and a moment later a party of Wardens round the corner and make directly for their door. Four are mages, easily marked not just by the staff each carries but by the demons that float at their sides. Two bring the chill of despair, long teeth always bared, yellowed by the flickering torches that light the halls. One glows on its own, a red-orange ember of rage made flesh. The fourth, envy, tall and spindly with too many limbs, head almost scraping the ceiling. They trail along with their mages like pets beside masters though who holds which end of the leash is a question that has yet to be answered.

The others are more conventionally armed with swords, shields, and daggers, including their leader, who strides at the head of the group with an almost exaggerated air of authority perhaps to make up for his only-average height and unimpressive build. He looks to be in his early thirties, with a sallow cast to his skin as if he spends too much time in darkness (and too much time and oil styling his hair). His smiles at them, polite but fake and unsettlingly toothy.

"We're moving all guests to the east wing. You four will need to come with us."

[dalishious]

There isn't any point in attacking; there's no room to fight, and it's four of them versus several Wardens and a pack of demons. Still, Merrick keeps a tight hold on his daggers, eyes contemptuous as he stares down the slimy man.

"Why?" he demands of him. "What's going on?"

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam relaxes slightly when the stranger at the door turns out to be only Teren; he doesn't know her well, but at least she's with the Inquisition. He bristles slightly when he sees her watching him, as though she were thinking perhaps he wasn't quite up to this, and he straightens up as tall as he can go (not very) and sets his jaw, one hand settling briefly on the hilt of the short sword at his belt.

The arrival of the Wardens and - worse - the demons stifles his bravery a bit, and he swallows hard as he casts the leader of the group a distrustful look.

"I don't much like this," he grouses, from behind the safety of Merrick's legs. "What's wrong with this room right here? And why are they here?" He nods to the demons with a frown. "They needn't be here, just to tell us we've got to move! And in the middle of the night and all," he adds with a mutter, thinking longingly of bed.

[ingrid_kief]

"With an armed escort? Not how the Wardens have usually done things. What is our new room? We can find it ourselves. Is there danger in this wing?" Ingrid asks calmly.

"Also, please, a moment to gather our things."

[visus]

"You'll come now. Your things will be collected and brought to you." The lead Warden pauses for a moment, looking over the group, and seems to snort softly at what he finds. "Raymond," he snaps his fingers and gestures at the woman just behind his right shoulder, who hesitates, lips pressing into a flat line.

"Wallace--" she starts to protest, but he turns and gives her a Look over his shoulder and she and one of the other warriors go, heading the four to head into the room to begin gathering up the belongings inside. They don't deliberately shove them out of the way, trying to sidle past instead, but they are going into that room.

"Now," says Wallace, reaching up a hand to smooth his hair as if this tiniest display of disagreement has ruffled his feathers and completely ignoring their questions with a smug, condescending smile, "Either you will come with us, or they will make you. It's all for your own safety. The east wing is this way." He gestures for them to fall into step with the remaining Warden escorts.

[doneisdone]

Teren is distracted from her appraisal of the others by the arrival and subsequent jostling of the other wardens, at whom her disgust isn't even partially hidden.
"Wallace," she echoes Raymond, in an icy tone, "I believe we're owed more explanation than this." There is a part of her, deep down, that is uncertain; she's aware of the effect she generally has on people, and she has learned how to use it to her advantage. But she's not especially large or strong, and when a curled lip and a brusque tone doesn't cut it, when she loses control of a situation, she can be vulnerable. And that's unacceptable.
"What are we being protected from? I am a Senior Warden, and I have a right to know."

[harthad_uluithiad]

"I'd say we all have a right to know!" Sam pipes up unwisely. It's easier to be brave with the others there, seemingly not afraid at all (or at least better at hiding it). "You haven't answered any of our questions at all, and if this is really for our safety, then it don't make much sense to threaten us with them, does it?"

He nods - well out of range - in the direction of the demons, and crosses his arms over his chest, planting his feet firmly on the floor. "Now Miss Teren and Miss Ingrid both asked you a question, or a lot of them rather, and if there's one thing I know it's to always answer a lady's question. My Gaffer'd box you round the ears if he was here, he would!"

[dalishious]

Oh for fuck's sake. Merrick makes an impatient sound and brings his heel down hard on Sam's foot, hopefully communicating that he needs to shut the fuck up right now. They can't take all these Wardens and their demon friends on their own, not in a room this small, and it's no use provoking them.

"We'll go," he says definitively. "But you'd better spit out an explanation soon." As much as he hates this, they don't seem to have any other choice, and these guys don't seem to want to answer any of their questions. He tries to communicate this to the women with a look.

(He's not all that worried about those of them who are taking his things. If they go through his pack they'll find two very similar flasks--one filled with alcohol, the other with a deadly poison--and will get an unpleasant and very short surprise if they decide to partake in the free booze. That's the price to pay for going through his shit.)

[ingrid_kief]

"We do not seek a fight, and there is no need for force. We are moving as asked. We only ask answers in return," Ingrid said reasonably. "Perhaps it would be easier if we simply sought out your leaders directly. I am sure they would wish to know such things."

[visus]

"You're a deserter," Wallace sneers at Teren, "You gave up that right." His smirk doesn't fade a bit as his gaze skims dismissively over the others, sliding right past Sam and Merrick. His teeth glimmer in the firelight as his lip curls at Ingrid. "You'll all see our leaders soon enough. Now either walk or be dragged."

He turns down the hall, and the rest of the Warden party accompanying him forces the four to fall into step, jostling or manhandling them into the group if need be. They head down the hall in silence, any other questions or comments offered completely ignored by Wallace, though the woman at his right shoulder keeps glancing at them, something uncertain in her eyes.

They are several corridors along before suddenly around a corner comes Warden-Commander Clarel, staff in hand and the furrows in her brow as deep as ever. "I will take them from here, Wallace," she says, dismissing the smarmy Warden from the front of the group with a raised hand. She sets a brisk pace down the hall, even faster than before and with no regard for shorter legs.

"The First Warden has taken control of Hossberg," she reports, words quick and clipped. It's difficult to read her mood beyond the ever-present worry and grim determination. "And there are reports of an archdemon over the city. If what you have said is true and Corypheus lives and Macrinus serves him, the Tevinter will soon try to take control of the Wardens and the demons. He must be stopped. He has ordered that you be brought to him, so you must distract him while I kill him."

[doneisdone]

It takes a few seconds for the outrage to fully dawn on Teren's face, and in that time a larger person is able to grab her firmly by both arms and march her forward, away from Wallace. She looks over her shoulder with eyes like an angry badger's, but her escort holds fast and Wallace is soon out of view.
She spends the time now keeping an eye on her cohorts, straining to see over others' heads for the short one and the elf, watching Ingrid out of her periphery as well-- if things go tits-up, Ingrid is the one they will need to rally behind. When she doesn't spot Merrick, Teren tries to wrench herself away to get a better look, but is held fast.

Her mood is most dour by the time they get to Clarel, but being a reasonable person, Teren reins in her temper and allows the Warden-Commander to instruct them. This makes some sense, she admits, but can't help groping for more reasons, more details in the room and the other Wardens' body language, the things Clarel isn't saying.

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam cries out in surprise and pain when Merrick stamps on his foot, but when the elf slaps his hand over his mouth, he gets the idea, shutting up quick. He watches, silent and wide-eyed, as the others talk, and though he bristles in anger when Teren is grabbed, he's smart enough to realize, at last, that they're outnumbered and overwhelmed. He falls quietly into step, glaring daggers at the Wardens surrounding them.

When Clarel appears, Sam pins her with the same suspicious look he'd given the others. But his eyes widen as he realizes what she's saying, and he glances quickly to the others for guidance.

[dalishious]

As soon as Merrick hears about the enemy he breaks apart from them, scouting ahead on his own. If there's killing to be done, he doesn't trust Clarel or the others to do it. These things take skill, precision, and discretion-- and in his opinion, the others lack all of these things.

He finds himself in the room where Macrinus is, and swings up toward the ceiling to peer down at him from above. He has to spy on him, make his own judgment instead of just trusting Clarel's words. He has to wait silently for the perfect time to strike.