faderift | Not Quite Damsels, Definite Distress

The morning is clear and cold, and probably a good one to stay in one's blankets except for a slightly pressing issue of two missing people. Some people probably want Alistair found and around, some people are a bit worried about the possibility of Anders being unaccounted for, it makes for a good reason to go looking.

As the party enters the small village, people start slipping away until only a handful are left out on the main road. After some glances back and forth, a younger man with light brown hair steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest. There's no attempt to hide he's a mage as he's wearing heavy brown robes and with a staff in a holster on his back. Glances around will show anyone in sight is wearing a staff, and that the man who stands in front is the youngest of those still present.

"Can we help you?" he asks.

When the party is lead deeper into the village, it's to the building that looks the most sturdy with a larger, older man sitting in a chair by the door on the small raised porch. He looks up from what he's reading as they approach, expression gruff as he meets Ashton's aggravated one before looking over the apologetic expressions on the other three's faces.

"Mm." The stack of paper gets set down, a rock placed on it, before he stands up. "That was fast. I almost wonder who persuaded who." It isn't a question. He steps forward off the porch, cracking his knuckles before shaking his head. The latter shows off his nose, which has clearly been broken before. A few times, no less.

"We're proving that they're alive before we start negotiating," Kian says, looking a little nervous under the older man's scrutiny.

"You found your nerve with me, you can stop being the sheep to him," Ashton mutters. Vidal raises an eyebrow in Kian's direction, which gets a shrug in response. Aleigh's only reply is rolling his eyes.

"If that's what's been agreed to," the older man says, giving Kian another glance before looking over the visitors one at a time.

"Velanna, Merrill, probably Nathaniel Howe," Ashton says helpfully as she points.

"Robert, Riannon," Vidal adds.

"Bitch," Ashton finishes up, pointing at Teren. To the man's blink, she shrugs. "She didn't give a name."

He sighs heavily as he turns to unlock the door to the house. "I'm Javion. Keep your heads as you go inside and remember that if anyone acts aggressively, we can have you asleep in a split second."

Once inside, it becomes clear why the place looks as sturdy as it is - it's the former village's jail. There are metal support beams, as well as three cells that are entirely metal bars. In the middle one is Alistair, looking a little worse for wear but awake, and in one next to him is Anders, curled up in the corner nearest Alistair and giving the doorway a dead-eyed stare.

Edited 2016-12-17 00:06 (UTC)

[Opens, post-mission discussion, whatnot can go here!]

Edited 2016-12-20 02:13 (UTC)

Nathaniel has been up for hours, since before dawn, packing and preparing for the journey. If he has to leave ahead of everyone in order to leave on time, he will. He has been grim and silent, speaking to no one, clearly perturbed but trying to be manly and stoic about it.

It doesn't take much convincing to talk Jamie into leaving with the others. Anders is a friend, and Alistair is...well, Alistair. To be fair, Jamie doesn't really know Alistair half as well, but from the little they'd talked Jamie's gotten the impression he's an alright sort of chap. He doesn't have any problems with going along and seeing if they can't figure out what's happened to delay them like this.

He's up early, despite the cold, and it doesn't take him long to get everything he'll need together. After that, it's just a matter of seeking out whoever he can from the group that's agreed to go and seeing if people are ready to go yet. He's never really been particularly good at waiting as it is, and something like this strikes him as a situation where it's better to leave sooner, rather than later.

"So are we just about ready, then?"

Nobody can recall telling Teren or her even being present to overhear the discussion, but she materializes in the company of rescuers shortly before they depart, wearing a fur-lined surcoat (with enough knives beneath to constitute their own suit of armor) and carrying a pack that contains all manner of warm clothing, first-aid supplies, and a well-concealed arsenal of tiny bottles and tinctures containing... well, one can only guess what's in there, but it certainly isn't friendly. Hopefully, nobody will see it to begin with, least of all the people it will be used on.

She speaks little, and throughout the journey often ranges ahead and around, seeking out signs of the disappeared Wardens and potential dangers. It's as close as she can get to traveling alone in the company of such a well-populated group.

Teren strides right up to the mage, whom she seems to tower over, regardless of whether or not he's actually shorter.
"I think you know quite well that you can," she replies, her tone flat and brusque. "Whether or not you do, however, will determine many things. Such as, how long you shall continue to live, and with how many holes in your person."
She hasn't, thus far, made any moves to draw any weapons. Perhaps she doesn't have to. Her gaze bores directly into their host's, daring him to make a quick move or shout for assistance.

From behind Teren, Merrill very literally facepalms. Unlike the Warden, she's short and also has dismounted from her horse, who is much, much larger. He's led by the reins as she pushes forward to try and be a bit more gentle about the situation, Honeysuckle (her horse) taking a spot next to her side. Her staff is on her back as well, smile friendly and a bit hopeful.

"That is- two people we know came here to help take care of some Darkspawn, and now they seem to be missing. Assuming you're not like the last people I met who kidnapped someone and aren't experimenting on them and torturing them, I'm sure we can work something out, if they happen to be imprisoned somewhere. Which we're pretty sure they are, based on the lack of messages. They both like to talk so it's not like them, you see."

The last time Merrill went to rescue someone, they had been tortured and experimented on by Venatori. Whatever is going on, whether it's that level of bad (or worse) or not, Merrill wants to help. Anders and Alistair are both friends of hers, and -- especially in the case of Anders -- she worries.

Her horse is being led behind her, saddlebags full both of Merrill's own supplies and extra supplies for the group as a whole. As a war horse, Honeysuckle is a little bit of a secret weapon, just in case something happens like 'suddenly no magic'. For now, though, Merrill's not thinking about that sort of thing too much.

"Does anyone have a map?"

She would rather not get lost.

You know, again.

When the diminutive elf appears beside her, Teren's eyes cut down to the side and then back to the man's. This... will considerably alter their first impression.

"..yes," she grunts in grudging agreement. damnit Merrill

"Two Wardens." Nathaniel casts a stern look at Teren. "Two Wardens are missing. Two men, one thin and blond, the other tall and broad and ginger. This is an official inquiry, so please be brief and honest. As you can see, my compatriot is in no mood to bargain."

There's no telling whether the first people they meet will be in on the disappearance. It could go higher up. Either way, it's no bad thing to play a little good knight/bad knight with Teren.

He's physically able to look Teren in the eyes, but that doesn't mean the mage is actually managing it. Instead, he's looking around for support that shows up in the form of an older, plump woman who looks fairly friendly. She comes up and pats him on the shoulder.

"It's all right, Kian." Then her attention turns to the party and she smiles at Teren without any actual warmth. "I'm sure you didn't mean to walk in here and start threatening. Sometimes we elders have something to learn from our younger friends, like this lady here." She points with her chin toward Merrill before looking at Nathaniel.

"They were here," she continues. Kian blinks, giving her a startled look. "And they took care of our little problem, or so we assume, because the Darkspawn haven't attacked in days. I can point you to the hole we pointed them to if that helps you, Ser Warden."

"Merrill!" chirps Merrill, merrily. Just pretend she didn't call you elderly, Teren, keep your knives sheathed. Let Merrill be a nice little unintimidating sparkle that can blow them up. "You didn't see them leave at all?"

Because they've either then been killed by Darkspawn (possible, but unlikely, as the village isn't leveled or still being attacked), have been Conveniently Unconscious for a while, or are not able to get their sending crystals to send a message -- as one wouldn't be able to do if they had been imprisoned.

"They really would have sent a message, you see. I'm sure whatever's going on is all just a big misunderstanding, but they're either stuck somewhere on accident or on purpose, and that's very concerning. One of them helped end the Blight, you know."

Merrill is not above namedropping either herself or Alistair. Sorry not sorry.

The look Teren gives the woman in return can't quite be called a smile. It's what might happen if, say, a velociraptor tried to smile. The corners of her mouth rise, but somehow it just makes her look more predatory than before.
Then, her gaze slides to the mage, whose sudden motion has caught her entire attention. "A twitchy one, he is," she observes, "when did you last see them, boy?" Her bearing is deceptively calm for a velociraptor.

All right, maybe it's good knight/bad knight/manic sunberry forestchild knight. Hopefully it works.

Nathaniel gives a polite nod to the mage woman and begins a separate conversation with her, quietly, as if they are the two adults in the vicinity. Teren has a notable effect on the boy, so. Divide and conquer.

"My lady," he says softly, trying to find the switch to turn on the noble-born charm some people claim he has, "you understand we have to ask certain questions out of protocol before continuing forward. I'm certain my...overzealous comrade will do your boy no harm in the meantime. Can you tell me when and what time of day you first saw these men?"

Kian looks like he'd really like to be invisible right now, caught between Merrill and Teren. He reaches up to tug on an earlobe, glancing at Ashton. "Four days ago?" It sounds more like he's asking them than simply being unsure. How he's feeling isn't helped by the tightening of the other mage's hand on his shoulder.

"Four days ago," he repeats with more confidence. "They headed in then, once they'd, they'd rested for the night. I didn't see them afterward." There's some sincerity to his voice, some of that might be true, but he looks stiff and nervous.

In the meantime, the grandmotherly looking mage is patting her hair and looking like she has all the time in the world. "Maker bless you, dear boy, but we don't exactly hold with protocol around here. If we did, we would have invited Templars to our little village... but I'll answer nonetheless. I first saw Wardens Albert and Garrett around midday five days ago."

Velanna appears at Nathaniel's shoulder, having made her way to the front of the group. Unlike the others, her staff is unholstered, and she plants it in the ground like a walking stick. The mages will certainly know that this is a passive battle stance, one usually taken if one needs to suddenly start throwing fireballs.

"Where did they stay while they were here?"

Unlike the others, Jamie hasn't made his way to the front of the group. He's further back, ostensibly watching over the horses of those who dismounted further back. However, that's not the real reason he's back there. Not entirely, anyway. While he is keeping an eye on the horses to a certain extent, he's also keeping an eye on the situation itself. Too many people have slipped away for his liking, and while talking seems to be working for now, he's not convinced it'll stay that way. Better that someone stay back and keep an eye out in case something goes wrong.

And if not? If nothing else, maybe he'll be able to get a better idea of what's really going on here. So while the others ask questions, he keeps quiet, not saying anything even though he's just as interested in the answers. Sometimes a little observation can go a long way.

Edited 2016-12-13 03:43 (UTC)

Ciri has, much like Jamie, held back with the horses. She stands beside her black mare as Kelpie huffs, digging a hoof into the ground and shakes her head slightly. The youngest of the Wardens in this little odd ball party pets down her mane, cooing gently before returning her seemingly idle game of turning a small knife over in her hands quietly. Although she appears to not be listening to the on-goings of the group, it is further from the truth and simply wishes to appear non-threatening unlike some in the party though she cannot totally blame them considering the situation.

But they are noticeably outnumbered as it stands and she does very much notice this.

Yet she keeps a passive expression as she listens to the exchanges with their group but glance around to those still idling around in the road doing the same as them. It is not hard to notice that all of them are armed in some way which causes Ciri to hum thoughtfully before she cheerfully waves at some of those that are lingering outside of the main group talking. Might as well try and make friends with some of the others if the immediate party proved too sour for those they are speaking with.

Ashton's gaze lingers on the staff pointedly before she raises an eyebrow at Velanna. There's no question about what she thinks of the manners of some of the people in this group, but after that pause Ashton gestures toward one of the houses to the side.

"We have a guest house for the occasional visitor, or those who have come in and haven't had time to make one of the former houses livable again. They spent the night in two of the rooms there."

As she speaks, another mage approaches the group, this one from the side. She's middle-aged, approach slow and leisurely, with short-cropped red hair and a liberal covering of freckles. The new arrival waves back at Ciri, coming over to join her and Jamie.

"More visitors? We haven't had this much excitement since three Templars decided they could take all of us on." Her smile is a faint thing, voice calm despite how the words are their own sort of test, and she holds out her hand. "Vidal. Vidal Marsh."

"My apologies, my lady," Nathaniel says again to Ashton, though he feels bolstered with Velanna at his side. This is a bad knight he is long familiar with, and he can predict exactly the kind of good knight he needs to be. He does not say what or who he is apologizing for, but he wants the lady to feel like she has an ally in him. "You understand we have to ask certain questions so we can file our paperwork properly. Velanna and I are very concerned for our comrades. When was the last time--day and time of day, when you saw them, and did they stop in the village on their way out?"

"Let's take a look, then," Teren says, nudging her head toward the guest house, glancing between the mages and then back over her shoulder at the rest of the party. She is becoming increasingly anxious with the light stepping, which manifests as impatience and irritability in her demeanor.

"Have someone show us the room while you lot work this out, perhaps there'll be a sign of them." She's doing her best to not start stabbing people outright and demanding answers. Howe, damn him, is being a rube as always, but he still outranks her.

Ashton sighs and shakes her head before giving them a saccharine smile, though there's something in her eyes for a moment when Velanna is named and as she looks at Nathaniel again.

"Of course. Come with me and Kian. You can all call me Ashton, by the way. I've got the name of one of you, but I haven't heard the rest."

Ashton looks off to the side to meet the gaze of a younger, scowly mage, and she raises an eyebrow at him before turning and heading to the house. Kian, shoulder no longer held hostage, walks along with her.

Vidal gives the remainders another small smile as Ashton leaves, though it fades when the scowly mage joins them. He's stick-thin and tall, eyeing anyone who remains outside.

"And this is Aleigh," Vidal says. "Don't mind him, he's an asshole."

"Better to be one outright than pretend to be something else, darling," he drawls, hands going into his pockets.

Not Quite Damsels, Definite Distress

Heading Out

Arrival

Rescuing the Captives

On the Way Home

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Group going inside

Group staying outside