faderift | [closed] the turn of the screw

WHO: Teren, Alistair, Anders, Benevenuta, Bethany, Kaisa
WHAT: Senior Warden von Skraedder brings a small gaggle of ~~fools~~ Wardens (and a Mortalitasi for some reason) along to investigate a sighting of the Architect in southern Nevarra. Mischief is afoot!
WHEN: Timey wimey, Haring-ish
WHERE: around and about Perendale
NOTES: there is no Architect but at least the cake is real

[OOC notes first: every round or so, feel free to do a coin-flip "idea" roll, then either send me a screencap of your diceroller or do it on Discord so I can see. If you get heads, proceed to roll a 1d5 and I will PM you a bit of insight for your character to have gleaned based on the circumstances.
For all anyone currently knows (with the exception of Teren and Benevenuta), the Architect is their prime directive and there is no reason to suspect otherwise.

I will be adding new legs to the journey once we've reached a reasonable transition, so the threads and available information will be limited to what's currently visible.

Also, if you could try to keep fewer than two days between each tag, that would be amazing!]

The journey is a long one, and it's in the dead of winter, which means it isn't a lot of fun. They at least have horses, on loan from the Inquisition save for those who have their own, and Teren leads the expedition on the rangy and agreeable black gelding she tends to borrow.

She's her usual self, curt and withdrawn and pensive, though she takes care of hers and is vigilant about ensuring everyone stays together, especially in the brutal snows that blow relentlessly over Orlais' northern plains.
She had approached each Warden initially, explaining that she had received news from Weisshaupt and wanted to take a small delegation to address its concerns: the Architect has been sighted in the north, not far from the border between Nevarra and Tevinter. Teren's old stomping grounds.

Summoned for her familiarity with the region, Teren has grudgingly accepted the call, but knows it would be suicide to make it a solo recon mission. Anders and Bethany are brought for their healing and warding talents, Alistair and Kaisa for their fighting prowess, and the non-Warden Benevenuta.. for... some reason, that isn't entirely clear to anyone else.

Their mission is to find the Architect, and if unable to apprehend him, to gather as much information on the situation as possible before returning to Skyhold.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Here, here." There's no winning with keeping Teren put, but at least he can go see to Alistair and start figuring out what's gone wrong. Which is a lot. Anders' lips press together before he nods.

"This is going--" But then Teren's heading for Mishka and stabbing his hand and Anders is stuck staring for a few moments. That's cruel. As cruel as a lover stabbing you? No. But... He can feel Mercy's dismay and resolve, and he can't say he disagrees with her, despite how he understands hurting enough to do something like that.

"Teren." Anders' voice is quiet. "I can't fully heal you if we leave him like that. Mercy wants no part of it. I can still use my natural abilities, but it won't be spirit healing. I'm not judging you; it's out of my hands unless he gets a clean death. I'm sorry."

Justice would have been fine with it. Mercy can't be. He looks back to Kaisa. "Let's get Alistair in the carriage, and I'll get to work there."

Alistair's range of vision is limited to whatever is behind Kaisa, at the moment, but he manages to register that Teren has done something he should disapprove of. He tries very hard to disapprove. He makes a noise that's disapproving in theory but garbled and pained in practice. Between the blood loss and ridiculous pain from the parts of his back that still have feeling, he's losing coherence.

And people are going to put him somewhere. He hates being put places.

"I'm fine," he insists, hissing, and tries to crane his neck to find Teren and whatever she's done, which doesn't end well for his spine. He might start crying a little. But if anyone ever says so he'll fight them.

Bethany stares as Teren slams the dagger down into Mishka's hand, sucking in a hard breath of surprise. She looks over at Anders as he speaks, a flood of relief coming over her at his words, no, they couldn't leave him to die like this.

Almost absentmindedly, she speaks to Alstair, "No, you're not. None of us are -- but I don't think any of us have turned into the monsters that put us in this situation, have we?"

She looks over at Mishka, then at Teren. "If you don't kill him, I will. I won't ... I won't say he doesn't deserve to die, but to die in the flames? Maker, I would not wish that fate on anyone."

Having already consigned several men to such a death in the process of her escape and in no mood to be sympathetic to the soft of heart, Benevenuta ignores the conversation or seems to as she gestures curtly for her corpse to hand her the knife he took.

She stabs it into the side of Mishka's neck, careful and deliberate and entirely without warning, and does not flinch at the violent spray of blood that interrupts the by play.

"If we're quite done."

"Alistair--Alistair hold still." Kaisa is having a lot of thoughts and a lot of feelings about everything that's going on, but her priority is the stupid squirmy warrior in her arms. He's not exactly light, and she has to struggle to keep her grip.

While she's busy with that, a lot of things happen. She was already getting ready to voice her own disapproval on Teren's actions, but Benevenuta takes care of the matter for her. Solemn and contemplative, she spends a few moments staring down at Mishka's corpse. There's so much that they can't see, couldn't possibly know. But what has she ever known? She's just the dumb muscle.

Past fallen beams and toppled pews, Kaisa makes her way out of the burning church, only stopping again once she's safely out of any danger. "Ashes we were, and ashes we become." It's a quiet, murmured little prayer, only loud enough for Alistair to hear. And with that out of the way, she heads to the carriage. At least it's over, and no one is going to expect anything more out of her other than stupid jokes.

Teren is still looking at Anders, explaining his problem, when Benevenuta takes care of things behind her. Mishka's scream cuts off in a guttural sound, which eventually drags out into a death rattle. An undignified death, hardly befitting a man of his accomplishment and reputation.
Good, perhaps.
She has turned to watch this happen, and then looks back at the mage, weary and resigned and so ready to be gone from here. She slowly and carefully makes her way toward the chantry doors as the fire spreads, not so quickly as to be unmanageable, and once they're out in the fresh air, she drops to her knees with a sigh of exertion. Of course her wounds have opened again, and this time she'll actually hold still for Anders to deal with them.

Her head is down, but it's possible to see the glistening of moisture on her angular face. It's been so long since she last wept, she barely remembers how. But no matter, it never solves anything.

The carriage in which they arrived is still on the road leading into the town, but is now horseless. Raelle is making her hasty way back to Perendale, to do... Maker knows what. Her network is shattered.

"Pike," Teren says in a quavering mutter, "it's not far from here. Alistair needs to rest." They all do, but he's currently the one she feels the worst about. All the same, her eyes flit up to meet Benny's, in a look that could actually be construed as apologetic. She's not completely clear on what happened, but she knows her own role in it was integral.

For a few moments all he can do is just look at the place where the horse had been. Alistair doesn't just need rest, and 'not far' might be too far. The only slight comfort he has is the fact that now he feels that Benevenuta has no leg to stand on when she judges him, not with how cold-blooded that kill had been. It doesn't help Alistair, though.

Anders exhales. "We're going to stop here for several minutes, at least. I need to get him stable so he doesn't bleed out while we're moving, and he's in less pain. Because I don't know how far 'not far' is, but it's too far to take him like this. Kaisa, if you'd set him down in the carriage? At least that's a flat surface that's better than dirt."

Maker, what a mess. "And Teren, if you can take a seat and not move around too much while I do that, I'll see to you after him. If anyone else is wounded, now is the time to say. If anyone is trying to hide a wound..." He trails off and shakes his head. He doesn't even have the energy right now for a proper threat. "Don't."

Whatever imaginary comforts keep the terrorist quiet suit Benevenuta just fine. She tests her ribs with her fingers, gingerly, and settles on;

"Only bruises."

Many bruises, and deep, ugly ones, but only bruises, she thinks.

[closed] the turn of the screw

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