[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

[dashing]

After all is done, when the bodies have been moved and burned, Herian stands and watches the pyre the loud crackle of orange and blazing yellow embers, the smoke that whips and twists in the air. In her hand she holds the staff that she retrieved from the guardroom, gnarled branches at its head and an ever-burning flame, and she watches, makes herself keep watching, even with the blood still on her hands from moving the bodies.

Walking on the road she tends to keep to herself, keeps quiet, though her head is held high and she walks with shoulders squared. She is every part the knight, with brutally correct posture and a carefully schooled expression. She will not make any keep her company, not after what has transpired, and not when so many of them had seemed so appalled. Not when the child called her mama when she hacked its head from its shoulders.

In a tavern she is, predictably, still silent. She does, however, lay down enough coin to see all her companions can have a drink or two on it, even though she makes no announcement - the barkeep might simply say that she took care of a couple of rounds earlier and not her way, mutter something about not daring to swindle a woman like that, before passing your character their drink. For her part, she sips water, and studies a set of notes that she retrieved in one of the rooms, as if she can glean more from the smeared, illegible parts of the message that eluded her before.

[circleprodigy]

Inessa doesn't have the mental strength for a conversation for some time after the brutal end of their mission. Her panic attack has left her spent, going along with the rest as though in a trance. What is there to say about what the child had suffered, what they had all seen? It will haunt her to her dying day, and Inessa is sure she's not the only one.

When they reach a tavern, she's regained enough sense of self to realize that some things need to be said, however. With a greatly subdued Garahel at her side, the young Warden slips into a seat by Herian. Her voice is calm though slightly rough after dry heaving and then disuse. "...you were right. I knew you were right, and I still wanted to believe he could be saved. I didn't want to...." ...see a child die. It was an abomination, beyond saving at that point, and yet her stomach still twists at the though of what they all had to do.

[dashing]

She is surprised that any one of them would join her, though she makes no motion as Inessa and the hound take a place beside her.

"We none of us were eager for it to unfold as it did, Warden Serra. Pray do not condemn yourself for holding onto some manner of hope."

Her own voice is even, steady, but veers into flatness, gaze steadily set upon the water before her. "I would sooner have been wrong, I assure you."

[circleprodigy]

"I know. You're a Knight-Enchanter, you have a code to uphold. You did what you had to do in order to protect us, protect the village." It may not be comforting at all, but Inessa suspects that Herian didn't choose such a path with comfort in mind. That doesn't mean she'd wish such memories on anyone, though. Who would?

[dashing]

"All a knight does should be for the protection of others. Offering succour to those with need of it, showing mercy and compassion, fighting for what is right no matter what the cost may be to ourselves. We are to protect, and act with honour and integrity at every turn. That is— rarely so simple as one might hope."

But there was no honour in killing a child, and it is hard to completely divorce him from being so when his last words had been so human.

She turns in her seat slightly, sizing up the Warden beside her. "How do you fare?" Inessa's reaction had not been... subtle.

[circleprodigy]

It certainly hadn't, which is an enormous break from normal. Inessa doesn't easily crack under pressure. But that entire fiasco had broken her in the worst way, and she winces and looks downward just thinking about it.

"...I don't know. I suppose I'm still numb. This...it reminded me of what happened in Kinloch Hold, when my tower was overtaken by blood mages and abominations. The Hero of Ferelden saved us, along with his entourage, but a good portion had already died or turned before they reached the tower. There weren't many of us left to pick up the pieces. I thought I had long since moved past that, but all that...it was as though I was eight years old all over again."

[dashing]

Herian listens in attentive silence, all focus on Inessa, even as her hand still rests on the scraps of parchment she had been studying. Though she does not reach out to Inessa, does not rest a hand over hers or touch her shoulder, she feels for her, and keenly.

Silence stretches a moment before she tries to sketch a response. "I cannot claim to know how horrifying such a thing must have been." She had endured the Spire, aye, and she had fled the Dalish, but she had never been in the midst of such blood magic and so many abominations as what Inessa describes, even in such broad strokes. "But I do have some familiarity with encountering matters that dig their claws into the very darkest seams of my memory. Events and people that drag all the most painful things into the very forefront of mine mind, so that I cannot evade them. It is not the same, I am uncertain any two people can share horrors with one another and hope to make a comparison, when the hurts are so personal, but—"

A moment, and she shakes her head. "I suspect I may have an understanding of it. I am sorry that such a darkness was forced upon you, and that this tore those wounds asunder once more."

[circleprodigy]

Broad strokes are about all that Inessa can manage and retain a semblance of calm, but she remembers every horrifying detail. Having a sharp memory isn't always a blessing, not when she can see the blood spatters and bodies so clearly. The children's caretakers tried to shield them as best they could, but there was no escaping the horror wrought, not when it was so widespread. Some part of her is always mired in that crisis, as with Cullen and likely many others. As much as she tries to fight it, that remains true.

And though Herian's experience isn't her own, hearing what she's willing to share helps pull Inessa from that tower headspace, just a little. It's something and at the moment, every bit counts. "It's not an understanding I would wish on anyone. It's said that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, but...I don't know. I don't know how to be stronger when it comes to those memories. How do you keep them at bay, long enough to function in the heat of the moment?" If she can't, then she's a liability and not an asset to the Inquisition. That's not a truth she's prepared to let happen.

[dashing]

"I keep them at bay because I must. Because to be a knight I must be steady and controlled. My emotions matter not; only the code matters. Honour, compassion, kindness. The willingness to act to protect, to vanquish evils and offer succour to those that need it. I use the code to guide every action I take, and interrogate my every response as best I can."

It is difficult, what comes next. A raw admission, in feeling if not in tone. "Whenever I see the Dalish within the Inquisition, I feel as though the very air in my chest is stolen from me. That my heart runs faster than even a dragon's wings might carry it. There are precious few in this world I despise and I dread more than they, and I must look upon them each day and call them allies in this cause. The code forbids me from causing offence wantonly, from acting against those with whom I must take up arms, from compromising my honour in the name of satisfying my own impulses. There are things greater than ourselves that we must strive to uphold, Warden. Whether it is the code of knighthood, or simply the cause of Thedas, find a point of focus that you can hold above all else and remind yourself of in even the darkest moments, and you will overcome."

Herian does not smile, but she tilts her head slightly in acknowledgement. "'Tis not the kindest advice that might befall you, I suspect, but that is what has sustained me. It takes time and training and forbearance. Councillor Leblanc taught me much in the way of meditation when she senior to me in the Spire. That might be a fine place to start."

[circleprodigy]

It must be comforting, having that ability to clamp down on one's emotions, pushing them aside for the greater good. For a moment, Inessa looks a bit envious. Even though she prides herself on discipline, that discipline obviously didn't help her back in the cave, not when she might as well have been an eight-year-old again. She needed something more, something that would help her not to break.

Listening to all that's said intently, Inessa's eyebrows flicker upward at mention of the Dalish, confused, but not about to interrupt. She nods automatically at the 'there re greater things than ourselves' sentiment, having felt that keenly all her life. It's why she left to join the Grey Wardens after all, instead of hiding or joining any particular side in the war. She shakes her head, not overly disturbed by the nature of the advice given.

"I prefer bald facts to sugarcoating and in that, you have provided. I cannot complain. That your code has sustained you is what matters in the end, does it not? It helps you uphold what you hold dear, beyond yourself, and in that I can see much merit. I know I don't have it in me to be a knight-enchanter, but I admire it all the same." She takes a deep breath and nods. "Meditation...that could be an acceptable course. We haven't spoken beyond the needs of the moment in our missions, but I will remember to ask."

It can't hurt. And she hesitates, not knowing if she should say more, but Herian was kind to take the time to speak with her, even if she didn't think so. "I can't claim to have any great experience with the Dalish. The Inquisition is the most exposure I've ever had with them. I'm sorry they have caused you harm, whatever they have done in the past. You need not explain, if you don't wish. Should you need to tolerate their presence, I am willing to act as a buffer. You need not interact more than you are comfortable with doing."

[dashing]

There is a moment where—

She wants to explain. Wants to be able to say what it is that transpired, because she is not blind to how people look at her, and how so many in the Inquisition favour the Dalish. They are allies, they help, they are sweet and kind and so many fawn all over them. They do not see what they are and what they are capable of.

Herian looks at the pieces of parchment before her. She wishes that she had the need to blink, that her eyes stung. She feels hollow. Sometimes a fire rages in her so intense that there is something else she can feel. Others, it feels as if the fire has gutted all that remained of her, as if she is no longer herself.

She could speak honestly or she could hold it within herself, and after the brutality of this mission she does not know if she can rightly lock it within herself and now feel undone.

"They murdered my father. Mutilated him. Mutilated me. We were their sport, and they relished each moment of our suffering."

It is not the full of it, but the truth entire was so vast and so painful that it was not a truth delved into simply, nor quickly. "I cannot hide behind the charity of others, but your offer is a kind one, and I am more than grateful, Warden. A knight cannot cower from their fears, or they will control us."

[ichaer]

Once she has finished tending to Nessa, Ciri moves to begin helping with transporting the bodies from within the cavern to the built pyre. Once the prayer is lit and the darkness of the night is chased away she moves to sit nearby. Her focus is on the pyre, quietly watching while she idly turns the knife she had used in the battle over and over in her hands.

It is a nervous habit, it was one that got worse in Weisshaupt but there is not much that shows on her face to show whatever she might be feeling now. It continues until her movements finally still and she raises the knife in the air, flicking it into the pyre before her hands go to the pouch on her belt and removing a vial containing one small red shard that glows brilliantly in the light of the fire.

"I was able to remove this from a body in the cells. He had likely died only right before we arrived." She says, tiredly. Ciri remembers Herian's suggestions after the boy's death and she had agreed. There was not much left there but they did have at least one piece from this nightmare. "Maker only knows if it's worth a damned thing but it is worth trying to figure out what happened here."

[dashing]

Herian does not immediately look to the Warden, to the orange and yellow glow and stark shadows that flit over her skin, just as they must Herian's. They all of them are skeletons in this light, she thinks. It seems appropriate.

"Thank you," she manages, as even as ever. Controlled. "I will pass this on to Councilor Leblanc, or see that it reaches the Advisors." She rolls the vial betweenher fingers, and slips it into a pouch hanging from her belt, with the scraps of notes.

"How do you fare, Warden?" Maker knows she has no satisfaction in bein right.

[ichaer]

The response only gets a nod out of Ciri as her gaze one more returns to the fire with little else in the way of words. She had figured that it would likely fall into silence once again so she is surprised when Herian asks on how she is doing even though her face does not show her surprise. It honestly shows little of nothing currently.

"Just call me Ciri." Because this is most important currently. "As well as one could be though I wish things had not gone as they did down there. I wish we had not been selfishly held back in our actions."

Perhaps it is wrong to call the others selfish but things could have gone so much worse. People could be dying at the hands of an abomination now if they not been their to react as they did but that boy's suffering could have ended much sooner.

[dashing]

"Ciri," she echoes, with the very slightest of nods. The use of titles and formality were bound into respect, but the wishes of an individual came before what some might consider idiosyncrasies. Herian makes no offer of her own given name in turn, more out of carefulness than anything else. Her titles were hard-earned, hard-won. She is not so willing to part with them.

Herian frowns very slightly, though... to be fair it probably isn't very obvious, when her general existence is hinged on frowning slightly at all times. It certainly isn't directed at Ciri.

"Their hope was reckless." A quiet agreement, marked only with that eternal calm. "Not without its own virtue, when considered by particular lights, but we are fortunate it went so smoothly as it did."

And her tone acknowledges that the smoothness she refers to was not smooth at all, but even so. No one died. None were gravely injured.

[universal_charm]

To say the road was tense might be an understatement. To Kirk it felt like snakes walked the road with them, silent and menacing, any word spoken their fangs striking. Quietly he watched everyone as they trudged on through the cold, especially those who seemed to stand apart. Perhaps especially Herian, whom he had snapped at during the confrontation with the child.

Slowly he angled himself in her direction, closing the distance in minute steps, not wanting himself to turn into the snake. He pulled a skin from his pack.

"Thirsty?" he asked as his opening salvo. Not his smoothest moment, but he wasn't sure where he stood with her.

[dashing]

"You are very gracious," she replies, and though she does not smile (she rarely does, cannot even slightly in the wake of all that has transpired) Herian does tilt her jaw in a slight nod. "I should be glad of water, if you have it."

Wine, liquors in various forms, she cannot partake of. The strictest interpretation of the Knight's Code is her own, and it demands temperance.

She continues walking, maintains a steady pace, and glancing back to the path before them. "I owe you thanks for aiding in taking those people to a pyre."

[universal_charm]

"Water I have," he held out the skin. He has wine, but that was to warm at night by fires if they had to camp outside rather than in a village. He considered traveling as "on duty" and didn't partake. "Sorry if it tastes a bit like the bottle."

He was quiet a moment at that, letting her take and use the bottle or merely hold it. He wasn't paying all that much attention to it anymore.

"I though it was the least I could do," he finally acknowledged. "You and the others did most of the fighting. Seemed to me someone else should handle the smaller burdens."

[dashing]

"You have my thanks." Quiet, even, as she is always quiet and even, out of a constant sense of control rather than any kind of self-consciousness. As they walk Herian uncorks the skin, and tips her head back so that the relief of water can flow past her parched throat. It is a relief, and she savours it for a moment before carefully passing the still-unstoppered bottle back to its owner.

A long, slow breath. "These are not the burdens of your own world. We do not expect you to know the complexities of them, nor would we lay the weight of resolving them upon your shoulders. That you go where the Inquisition would send you and willingly partake means much." But they need not torment themselves. They need not put themselves through the act of killing demons that wear the faces of children.

Her expression tenses, very subtly. "Doubly cruel to expect one that begged for his life to strike blows to end it, I think."

[universal_charm]

He took his own draw as she spoke, listening quietly and not interrupting. Part of what she said was true, and he was sure quite a few Rifters might feel that way. But he couldn't. He wasn't a man to let horrible things go on and pretend like they were not his concern. Looking away was, in and of itself, an injustice. And while he did not know what it might be right to do, he knew what he could do, and wasn't that all any of them should be expected to give?

"You're right, this isn't my world," he said, twisting the strap of the bottle around his hand. "But it is the world I find myself, and I might be here for another day or another decade. Either way, I'm not the sort to just sit by and let others solve a problem when I could help. I have always simply tried to do what I feel is right, no matter where I am, and this place is no exception."

He took a breath, sighing softly and his shoulders sagging the tiniest bit.

"And sometimes there isn't really a right, only the best choice out of a bunch of crap ones. But that's the nature of any world, Thedas or otherwise."

ugh sorry for my extreme slow!!!

[dashing]

"Doing what is right is not always a task easily accomplished," she replies, though not unkindly. She speaks with a practised, balanced kind of calm, an eternal kind of steadiness. "We are rarely faced with good choices in war."

It's not exactly reassuring or a pat on the back, but she does glance to him, and the look holds more empathy than anything else, even if her manner is very controlled. "You sound an honourable man. I hope that next we work together it goes more happily than this."

Re: ugh sorry for my extreme slow!!!

[universal_charm]

"Believe me, I know. You just have to make the best choice you can. It's all anyone can ever ask of anyone else, I feel." It came down to, in the end, if you could live with the choice you made. Sometimes it came with a lifelong guilt, but there were just times when the "right" decision was not necessarily just. Life and circumstance were rarely so kind.

He hardly expected reassurance, but he accepted it graciously. If anything, he had thought she would need it. After all, she had been more in the thick of it than himself.

"Same," he nodded. "It'd feel nice to have something to raise a glass to."

Tavern

[justice_is_blond]

He's a little surprised by the drink, even more so when Herian is nodded to. For a couple of moments he wonders if he should simply drink it and then move on, like he'd originally planned. It isn't like he has a grasp of who she is. Cold and rocky as the Frostbacks one moment, heated and unrelenting like the Anderfels the next.

But Anders has been making an effort to at least be polite when someone's not being an ass to him, which means he can at least make the minimal gesture here.

He crosses over to the table. "Thank you for the drink." Obligation covered. But he lingers, because she's looking at the notes and they're of some interest to him as well.

[dashing]

In Herian's case, the minimal gesture might have been to stay far away; she is not best inclined to company, in the wake of all that has transpired. In any case, when she made a gesture of attempted kindness towards her fellows, she was aware it was not an intended aggravation when others drifted closer. It was not even an aggravation, so much as a quiet discomfort; she simply would sooner be alone with her thoughts.

The apostate presses on her desire to isolation rather more sharply than most, admittedly.

"If that was all you attended to say," she says, without looking at him, just holding one of the pieces closer to a candle brought to her by the barkeep (fire in her palm in a tavern hardly seemed tactful) to try and backlight it and see if it makes the words beneath the smudges even remotely audible, "then you are free to depart, Warden."

Not angry, not sharp, a simply and calm statement of fact.

[justice_is_blond]

Almost, almost he says he enjoys having that freedom. The Anders of one, two months ago would have blurted it out and been smug. He's still tempted, it would be rather satisfying to say, but in the end it wouldn't accomplish anything.

"I am. But what you're finding in the notes, if anything, holds interest to me. I've worked against red lyrium before, brought a Dwarf temporarily back to his senses after exposure. I'd like to find a way to do more, because people aren't going to stop. This is only going to become more widespread."

In his opinion, certainly. But abuse and cruelty never stops on its own as far as he's seen.