[CLOSED] PLAYER PLOT: The Ashes Underneath His Nails

[amygdalae]

WHO: Jim Kirk, Hermione Granger, Adelaide Leblanc, Herian Amsel, Anders, Inessa Serra, Raylan Gibbs, Ciri
WHAT: The Inquisition sends a group of agents to uncover the truth behind a string of mysterious disappearances.
WHEN: Kingsway 1st - 8th
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: Plotting post is here - feel free to post in there still for queries and concerns and further stuff where needed. Warnings for blood, violence, talks about death, experimentation horror, abomination-related stuff etc and eventual on-screen child death. ALSO no tag order - just respond when you feel like you should and I'll try to hit it back if it feels appropriate!!

QUICK JUMP LINKS TRAVELLING TO FROMAGE & FROMAGE GENERAL THREAD ROUTE INVESTIGATION SEEKRIT CAVE ENTRANCE INTO THE SEEKRIT CAVE CAVE INVESTIGATION - LEFT TEAM CAVE INVESTIGATION - RIGHT TEAM KID ABOMINATION THREAD BACK TO SKYHOLD

(—he remembers the chill of the frost and snow biting at bare skin, its usual pure white now tinged a horrid pink from the blood on his hands. He's far away from them now, the danger and the pain and everything else, but the blood will forever be on his hands no matter how much he tries to wash it away. His father had been right all along. He truly was a monster of the greatest kind.)

QUEST: THE ASHES UNDERNEATH HIS NAILS (PART I) The message had come swiftly, the letter itself hastily written with a shaky hand. The request itself was simple; a plea for help from a village at the outskirts of Emprise du Lion, whose people have been mysteriously disappearing over the last few weeks. Considering the ongoing civil unrest that's still transpiring in Orlais the Inquisition made its decision to send out a team of agents to look into this message and see exactly what was going on. The eight agents tasked with the mission were given enough time to prepare for the trip ahead. They would all meet up first at the Inquisition camp set within the Emprise and from there travel for about a day until they reached where their destination was - Fromage, a quaint little village that rested at the outskirts of the area. From that point on, it was up to the agents of the Inquisition to solve this ongoing mystery. The mission: to discover the truth behind these disappearances - and to stop it, if possible.

Comments

The Ride Home - open

[fleurdesel]

It had been a singularly terrible mission all around- not that she expected anything less considering the Inquisition's luck as of late- and yet from the moment they left the cave Adelaide has been nothing if not stoic. Her was voice even, her eyes dry, her expression blankly civil, not entirely uninviting to those that would have her company but not precisely giving off the impression she cared to discuss what they had seen. What they'd done.

None of them truly seemed to wish to do more than manage what they must for the report.

Now and then her eyes softened, fingers brushing against the leather band around her wrist. Otherwise? She tended to the remainder of the party. Healed wounds. Answered questions. Shared her whiskey, brandy, and wine as they were all in need of a drink.

[dashing]

She had dismissed any offer for healing earlier, until all was done. Bodies moved, burned, prayers said. Until that was done she kept working, and the end result is her breath being a little hitched as she sits, and tries to ignore the lingering prickle of pain as the heat from the burns works deeper into the tissue. It seems a small penance, for what they have done. For what she might have started.

Herian sits, hand extended to the fire to raise more life in it, fingers mapping out her new staff. "Councillor LeBlanc," she starts, when Adelaide draws near. "I apologise for the abruptness of my manners. I am ill-used to participating in tasks with so many others."

[fleurdesel]

"Herian." Adelaide settles next to Herian with all the absentminded grace born of years of training. She could be reading or resting, but- her mind is too busy twisting itself in knots over what was done, how it was done, why it was done. Why that boy, why like this, what did they want to create? Easier to shut off those thoughts circling like so many broken winged birds and focus upon a patient. A student.

A peer, now. "It does take some adjustment."

She extends a hand. "Let me tend to your wounds."

[dashing]

Her jaw clenches and flexes with that, and she does not know whether the informality troubles her because she is so well entrenched in formality, now, or because she does not deserve the softness of it. Herian made her feel a student again, for a moment, who had overreached in her training once again. It was not the censure deserving of a Knight-Enchanter who had misstepped, who may have cost a child their life.

"They are inconsequential. Better you save your mana for those with more dire need."

They are not inconsequential, but perhaps it is better she burn.

[fleurdesel]

"I am a Spirit Healer." When it comes to this? It is no question of mana. That more than anything else tips Herian's hand, shows how tightly she is wound, how her penchant for self recrimination has coiled and sunk in its fangs. Where could she have learned this and oh. Of all the lessons Adelaide meant to teach? Self flagellation had never been one of them. "We cannot undo what has been done. But we can ease your pain and fulfill our purpose."

Again, her hand extends, palm up. Full of cool blue light for there is precious little Herian might say or do that would have Adelaide take no for an answer. "I ought not to have argued."

The fault is hers.

[dashing]

A tilt of her jaw, at that, a very well not given voice. She doubts it would have made any difference, even if she had insisted, and there is no good in being ungracious.

"Pray, do not take this on yourself." Quietly spoken, an evenness that she was never very good at in the Circle now perfected to an alarming kind of flatness. "I could not have known that a cure was impossible; it was arrogant and headstrong to be so certain that steps could not be taken, even without knowing," of Anders, "of that apostate. It has been done before, by Circles."

They were not in a Circle, now. Perhaps that was where her doubt lay. She hardly knows, herself. "And you could not have known what had been done to that child. Mercy was the more befitting action. If there is anything to be said, it is that I lacked faith."

And what were knights, without faith?

[fleurdesel]

"Herian." Things had been done in the past, certainly. A litany she couldn't begin to think of in the moment. A ritual wherein a mage walks into the fade. Her own tests with Anders. Variations on a monstrous theme but the point when flesh twists and blood runs like red stone-

That is the point when all is lost. "Why else would they have left him behind? They completed their work. There was nothing that could have been done and had I not been so arrogant as to assume that I could save him? It would've been a swifter death. A kinder one. What was done for Anders would not have helped him."

Compassion's will wells and flows, curling over Herian's skin in a comforting drape of power. "We were both of us mistaken. All we can do-"

Is do better in the future. The most common refrain to their lessons.

[dashing]

"Councillor." It is a brief echo of exasperated student, reframed. "Have you a reason you are so eager to speak my name with such emphasis?"

It is rude, and it is more than she would allow herself with anyone else, mouth clamping shut as soon as it is spoken, fingers curling towards her palms, one hand still resting on the staff across her lap. Calmer, again, "I apologise. That was... inappropriate and rude. Perhaps you are right."

It was the Marcher demon girl that the Senior Enchanters lamented, more than once, not the Knight-Enchanter that stalked chevaliers and made them regret all the ills they inflicted.

"They think me a monster. Those others here." She had seen the way they looked at her when she readied her blade, and when she was covered in the blood of a child. It doesn't matter, what others thinks, but—
it seems fitting, and terrible unfitting, in the same moment,

[justice_is_blond]

He took a seat next to her, somewhat dead-eyed. Before calling Nate he'd healed his wounds; Nate would have been upset otherwise and Anders could at least keep himself together enough for that. But that doesn't mean he takes the seat gracefully. He's exhausted. They all are.

"I heard you had alcohol." And she's her, too. A friend. He needs that right now, and he thinks it's likely she does too. They'd both tried so hard for the boy and it hadn't paid off, and no matter how many times it happens, losing a patient never gets easier.

[fleurdesel]

"Of course." Freely offered as any that climbed out of the cave certainly earned a glass or ten. Without question, comment, or so much as a batted lash she pulled a bottle from her bag and poured him a glass. The Raspberry Schnappes from the Snow War- a comforting reminder of kinder, happier times. Better than anything they would find in the taverns along the road. "To surviving."

That was all she could think to raise a glass for, here. They survived.

Precious little else.

[justice_is_blond]

The scent was lovely, the first lovely thing of the day, and it made him breathe a little easier as he raised his glass as well.

"To surviving." Anders sipped, closing his eyes for a moment so he could simply enjoy the flavor. "It's not enough. But we don't get more this time." And the boy got even less, and had for such a long time.

"I don't... Why? Why would anyone..." Creating demons, torturing children, he didn't get it.

[fleurdesel]

It was not quite deadpan, her voice, but it was hammered flat. Clipped and cool and tightly controlled.

"Because they could. Because it is step one of a larger plan. Because they were curious, because it would further their goals, because they found it amusing or arousing or simply wished to see what they could do with red lyrium and an abomination. Perhaps they found it educational, perhaps they were attempting to make a weapon of him or testing the process to ensure it could be replicated. They were experimenting for a purpose- we may never learn what it is. Speculation is not going to help us in this." All it would do is sour their already dour mood further. What more could be done? What more could be lost?

What made the most sense?

[justice_is_blond]

Sometimes he's envious of her calm, but there's a cost to it too. Keeping things buried down, controlled, would eventually lead to too much spilling forth all at once, in his opinion. So instead of trying to mirror her calm, Anders exhales heavily and takes another drink.

"I've got one of their books, one full of notations. I can't decide between burning it to keep it from ever possibly falling into other hands, or studying it so I can maybe find a counter to red lyrium poisoning, to what people are doing with it. This is only going to become more widespread."

It's worse than blood magic, and anyone with questionable morals can try using it, to boot.

[fleurdesel]

"This is a situation where the researcher in me wonders if more eyes would make for greater understanding- or if secrecy aside from reporting our findings to the advisors would be best. At the very least? I recommend sharing what you've found with Dorian." No one was truly an expert on red lyrium, on possessions, but it was one person they both knew that would not twist what they'd found to do the world ill.

The question now was if there was enough left in the book to be worthwhile. "The Seekers as well. Seeker Reed seems reasonable enough. They ought to now what the red templars are doing."

[circleprodigy]

After Inessa's panic attack in the cave, after such a brutal death, she has no energy left within her. She goes along with the rest as though in a trance, devoid of words for some time. The stoic mask has slipped and she can't seem to put it back on, not right now anyway. It was too much, and despite her skill, she's still young, almost as young as Hermione. Maybe that youth will make it easier to bear this later, but for now, everything hurts.

She pauses by Adelaide at some point, tempted but wary. "...if you don't have anything too strong, I'll partake. I don't want it to overpower me. I don't want to sleep ever again."

[fleurdesel]

"It won't help- in fact?" She says as she pours a measure of the team Raspberry Schnapps leftover from the snow war, something light and sweet and easy. She offers the glass with a faint softening of her eyes- it had been a terrible thing to see all around. All of their worst fears boiled into one child. "It puts you at greater risk for you will be weary and made vulnerable by exhaustion."

Sweet dreams, Inessa. "Meditation will help. A lack of fear will help. Neither of these things are easily managed after what we have seen, thus? A shortcut."

[circleprodigy]

Her dreams are already awful, hence the lack of encouraging them by sleeping. Inessa's still frazzled enough where it makes a weird sort of sense to her, even as Adelaide's own logic can't be denied. She sighs and takes the glass, not knowing what to think anymore. The sweetness is a pleasant contrast to the ginger tea taken earlier to quell her stomach.

"A lack of fear...that is more difficult than I had supposed. My Circle was overtaken by blood mages and abominations during the Fifth Blight. If the Hero of Ferelden and his entourage hadn't arrived, the entire tower would have been lost. I thought I had moved on from that, but the events in the cave...it was as though I was eight years old once more." Her lips form a thin line, ashamed at herself for not holding it together better than that. She's a Grey Warden, she's seen vile things thanks to darkspawn. Why did this have to be the thing that made her fall apart?

[fleurdesel]

"Kinloch hold." A cautionary tale for every tower once word came around- they had felt so certain it would never happen in the Spire. That nothing of the sort could shake the foundations they'd built. In truth it'd been the fearful and the mad that struck them down rather than blood magic and abominations. Somehow that makes it worse. No one to blame but themselves. "We are marked by what we survive. That this brought forth memories of that for you- There are rumors and speculation. The few I know that survived do not speak of it, but-"

She takes a sip of her own drink and sets her glass aside. Inessa is not one of her students, but these fears? Are vaguely familiar. "what I have heard is horrific. All I might recommend is you survived it then and have endured that memory without possession. This too shall pass."

[circleprodigy]

Inessa nods dully upon hearing the name of her Circle. She's not surprised that word spread elsewhere, of course. "No, not many speak of it, but I'm sure they live with it, as do I." Some part of her will always be in that tower. "She takes another sip, needing the momentary distraction. "...and I dearly hope so. Herian recommended you, regarding meditation which might aid in retaining my composure. If you've any time to spare, I would be eager to learn. I don't wish to be a liability in such situations."

[fleurdesel]

"It is something most healers learn so they might focus on the work- some warriors I know of use similar techniques to divorce themselves from the violence and carnage around them. You have yourself- and you have the situation, the event, the thing that makes you feel upset. I am-" Still as stone. Cool and calm and collected, her eyes neither red nor watering. "Furious, disgusted, and overwhelmed with self loathing for our failure in that cave."

And does not look anything more than mildly weary after the day's travel. "You take what upsets you and you put it in a box away from yourself. You take the emotions that would overwhelm you- and do the same until you are somewhere safe to feel them."

[universal_charm]

Kirk thought he could very well ignore the stinging ache on his arm, like he usually would, but in this world it probably wasn't a good idea to let it go. Mostly, he didn't think he deserved much attention when others had done most of the fighting. If he was to be taken care of, he wanted to make himself last, his instincts as a captain still strong even six months off his ship on this most unexpected of shore leaves.

He made his way to Adelaide, coughing softly to get her attention. "If you've gotten a moment, could you take a look at something?" he asked her, rolling up his sleeve.

[fleurdesel]

"And you have not had this treated until now because?" Adelaide arched a brow, hand already pooling with pale blue mist. Compassion keenly aware of every ache and wound of their number- they had tended to those that they could as they were able. With travel and trouble and everyone licking their wounds privately it was difficult to ensure that all that could be mended had been- for Kirk to go so long without treatment? Earned Adelaide's ire.

And her understanding. The stubborn worked despite pain- and sometimes because of it. The longer she remained in the Inquisition the more accustomed to this she became, for all that it frustrated her.

[universal_charm]

"Others needed it more than I did, and I thought if it would heal fine with salve, bandages, and time there was no reason to waste your magic," he gave a little half shrug on his good arm, rolling with her chastisement. It was comforting, in its way - like Bones, except Adele was much prettier and less growly.

"Thank you, by the way," he said to her quietly. "Are you doing all right yourself?"

[fleurdesel]

"I am a Spirit. Healer." This was the second time someone had come to her long after they ought under the assumption she would be wasting her time or power. "I do not run out of magic for healing. Must I make an announcement on the crystals to stop this nonsense?"

She would. She would in a heartbeat if that was what it took. The blue mist coiled and flowed over Kirk's arm, sinking into his skin to sooth the pain and mend the flesh. "I am well enough."

[universal_charm]

"Probably, because to be honest, I don't know the difference between the magics all that well except that Blood Magic is bad," he admitted, giving her a chagrinned little smile as she worked her particular form of healing. It felt nice, just a touch of itching, and clearly worked. If he thought of it as magic he got unpleasant tingles, so he compared it to Bones' equipment back home. In that way it was not quite so different except she did it with, well, energy he supposed versus technology.

He watched his arm, somewhat fascinated by the process. "Hmm. Well, let me know if you need anything," he said, casting her a meaningful look, wondering if she was like Bones and tended to sacrifice self over the patient.