Entry tags:
with (climbing) axes
WHO: Harding, Krem, Zevran
WHAT: Quest! Searching for the missing scouts, or, a supply delivery that failed to turn up at camp.
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: Fallow Mire
NOTES: Summary is here.
WHAT: Quest! Searching for the missing scouts, or, a supply delivery that failed to turn up at camp.
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: Fallow Mire
NOTES: Summary is here.
It was a miracle they found the cart at all, really, with it half stuck, half sunk in the bog - it was the Inquisition archer that gave it away, killed by someone who clearly knew what they were doing and clearly had the advantage. And likely took all the supplies that were presently missing to boot. If the scouts were missing... well, there was clearly negative interaction between an apparently hostile group and Inquisition members, so there's a possibility they might not-
Harding tries not to think about that too long. She stands up from where she's bent over next to the archer. "We'll have to come back and burn the body later," she says, because none of them are mages and matches in this maker-forsaken swamp are reluctant to light. "Don't want them coming back as one of the undead. Doubt they would, either."
For now, there were other matters to attend. As well as endless mire, there are rocks, and in her professional opinion in shooting things from height, it's easy to guess where the assiliant was hiding, even if the visual evidence points to the nearby rock face, too.
It doesn't look very friendly.
"Whomever killed them was waiting up there," she points with her own bow, which she's had out for much of the venture through the murk. Rule number one of the mire - don't let yourself be caught off guard by undead. She looks to Zevran (who looks remarkably pretty soaked to the skin) and Krem (glad to know those arms can hold a maul, he has very nice muscular arms) for their input. What now?
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"But they don't strike me as climbers." Back to the task at hand. Harding lingers behind the pair of them, not willing to put the bow down, even as she scans the ridge. They're not getting around it, but climbing it seems so unlikely, even if it's clear it's been done - really, there's a part of her that's impressed that whomever it was managed it. Possibly with supplies, but there's no real way of telling tracks down here. The answers are up there.
"Zevran, you want a boost?"
That's an offer, if you want to scramble up the wall. Elves are spindly, she's stocky. She'll happily watch- assist.
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He did not think there to be any in the surrounding bog but- if they were to take what they wished and kill scouts of the Inquisition? Another investigative party was not below their notice.
One swing, two, three and he flung the hook through the air, yanking sharply on the cord to seat it between two stones high on the outcropping. Behold. A path up. Hauling himself up hand over hand may have been showing off but- Harding. Scout harding. More than worth showing off for.
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There's a gap, something that could serve as a footpath upward if one was a ram, or a talented scout. So he whistles for Harding's attention then nods up, letting her go ahead of him.
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She's kidding, of course - she absolutely would find a way to save any Inquisition member, but it does give her an excuse to flash a winning smile in his direction before Zevran starts climbing up the rock face. Ah, yes. This is nice. So talented, so angular. Let her appreciate this moment.
She keeps an eye on Zevran's progress and the surrounding bog, which remains quiet, and eerie, glancing towards Krem and paying him her full attention as he whistles for her. Harding sees his intent easily enough, even from this distance, and backs up to the outcrop, and only then does she place her bow across her middle and begins her own climb. Who needs a line? Not her, as she presses fingers into improvised holds and hauls herself upward.
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The vantage point is an excellent one- though it does leave him mildly curious as to why, exactly, no one thought to stake it for the Inquisition's scouts in order to avoid this from happening in the first place.
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When the two of them arrive at the top, Krem takes up a spot next to Zevran, thinking along the same lines as he scanned the area. Had he been an archer, he could have easily found the ideal angles from which to fire on the Inquisition's forces.
"Scout Harding. Check around for signs of a body, maybe a struggle, traces of blood, something," he suggests, kneeling down near the gap in the rocks that might have provided the cover needed to take their men by surprise. There was no way Leliana's men had just missed this perch, not from the positioning of the supply cart.
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A crushed potion vial, or a piece of it, of Inquisition issue. "Now what are you doing up here?"
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"Why wait so long for them to approach? They could have taken the first scout further from the point, make their position less obvious." It isn't sloppy, per se- some are of the 'fire when you see their pupils' school of thought, but it is terribly curious.
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