faderift | [closed] the turn of the screw

Entry tags:

[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She's her usual self, curt and withdrawn and pensive, though she takes care of hers and is vigilant about ensuring everyone stays together, especially in the brutal snows that blow relentlessly over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.

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There are no roads, just several feet of snow. It sucks. The only reason they're able to stay on track at all is by ensuring that the Frostbacks are behind them, and then marking the direction of the buffeting winds, which are doubtlessly blowing off the Waking Sea that separates Orlais from the Free Marches.

Travel is mostly silent, for the simple reason that nobody can hear one another. But camp is a different story: a cozy fire, tents of skin and blankets of fur, and usually a winter-fat rabbit or deer to share between the small party.

Teren is characteristically quiet at these times, but in anticipation of their misery she at least had the foresight to bring a cask of good brandy to keep their blood flowing, and she shares it out generously.

[Post an OTA or respond here!]

Bethany had agreed to go without a single argument, because of two Reasons.

One, Teren had asked her, and as Teren had been there for all the Wardens in one capacity or another, Bethany knew it was the right thing to do to help her. Even if it put them at the border of Tevinter, a potentially dangerous place.

Two, the Architect had been seen. The Architect, the only ... person alive who might be able to remove the Taint from a Warden. Or, at least, give them some idea of how they could do it on their own. The one ... person that Bethany needed to help her fulfill her dreams, one way or another.

The ride was ... well honestly it was grueling. The snow and the cold managed to make her feel like her eyes were constantly watering. The amount of mana it took to keep a shield up around herself and the others meant that she had to save it for the difficult passages.

So by the time they reached the camp, she was quiet. Not withdrawn, just tired. Still, she would tend the fire, cook up the game that was caught, and be sipping her brandy near her own tent. She had brought books with her, and would be reading them by firelight, until they all agreed it was time to sleep, start watches, all the like.

Either on guard duty, cook duty, or just Bethany duty though, she always had a smile for her fellow Wardens and an ear to bend if they wanted to.

Edited (Because it cut off half this post grrrr) 2017-01-03 14:00 (UTC)

"So this is... heading toward where you're from." It's apparently the reason she's been contacted for this, though he's not pressed about it before. Which probably means she saw his inquiry coming. Anders isn't good at keeping his large nose out of everyone else's business, especially when he cares about them.

"Is it good to go back? Or is it something you're not really looking forward to?" He'd been open about enjoying going back to the Anderfels, but their circumstances are obviously different.

She's reading, which means it's a perfectly good time to flop down next to her and lean on her shoulder. Or maybe it's not the perfect time, but he's pretending like it is because he's tired and cold and going after the Architect has thoughts in his mind he can't quite sort out.

"Good book? I realize it's a stupid question because if you say yes then I should probably leave you alone, and you brought it so it's likely to be good, but the day I ask a smart question is likely the day Thedas ends altogether."

She smirked over at him, dimples deepening in her cheeks, before she solemnly turned the book around for him to see. A history of the Grey Wardens, more importantly, the exploits that occurred during and after the Fifth Blight. "I thought it might be good to give myself a refresher. It really is fascinating stuff. Beyond that ..."

She shrugged, "We're in the middle of a blizzard tracking down a Smart Darkspawn, where we might at any time be attacked by our own brotherhood, an even MORE ancient darkspawn, or evil Tevinter supremacists. You must have asked a lot of smart questions."

Teren had seen the amount of effort Bethany had put into shielding the rest of them from the snow, and had little patience for the girl trying to do anything else at the camp, instead insisting that she rest. No watches for her, no chores: she had done her part during the day, and would likely do it again on the morrow.

They were a few days away yet when Teren approached Bethany, crouching beside her to scrutinize her face and make sure she wasn't in the throes of a very pleasant and relaxing death.
"You're using your lyrium reserves sparingly, I hope," she prompted, a Teren way of saying 'how are you, please be careful'.

Anders' question elicits a grunt as Teren takes a gulp from her flask, and it takes her several moments to screw the cap back on and consider her answer before she responds. She did see it coming, and is prepared.

"It's irrelevant either way," she replies, "we won't be venturing anywhere near my home." There's a peculiar finality to this statement, indicating that even if he should inquire further, Anders will likely not glean any additional reasoning. "The countryside is countryside, like anywhere else. But Nevarran spoken in the hills and fishing villages is quite different from that you'd hear in better-traveled places, so I expect that's where I'll find my use." Especially in the more Orlais-dominated regions, where the dialects get especially impenetrable: in other words, exactly where they're heading.

"Oh no. This is because I asked bad questions," he returned with a grin. "We're in the middle of a blizzard. We're likely to be attacked by an unholy alliance of Darkspawn, Grey Wardens, and evil Tevinter supremacists. All at once. Did you forget I was along on this trip? What can go poorly, will."

Leaning in, Anders glanced at the back cover of the book before nodding. "I heard so many stories from Jonas, and was there for some of the after. If you've any questions, I likely have a story, and it may even be true."

"Right," he says after a moment, trying to shrug off the way she'd completely blown off his inquiry. "So the country isn't home, then, or wasn't. Country itself, I mean. I'm not talking about the countryside."

Anders holds a hand out for the flask. If she's going to be dodgy, he's going to have a nice drink. It's only fair. Or something.

"What is relevant, if we're ignoring perfectly good conversational openers?"

When the wind is particularly bad, Alistair is not as subtle as he thinks he is about trying to make himself into a shield. There are probably people who need it more than Teren—Benevenuta is here, and Anders, poor cold little Ander—but Teren is closest at the moment, so he and his enormous shoulders wind up alongside her as they trudge through the snow. It stings. It's the sort of thing he would complain about endlessly if everyone else weren't suffering, too. But they are, so instead it goes in the box with concussions and cracked ribs and splintered bones, the box labeled things he pretends don't hurt, rather than the box of things he acts like he might die of, which includes sniffles and paper cuts and—

"I'm starving."

—hunger.

"Which of us do you think should be killed and eaten first? Maybe Kaisa."

Teren, dodgy? Perish the thought.
She hands the flask back, more than happy to continue being oblique regardless of how Anders pouts about it.
"I've been strategizing," she says after a moment, "the minor noble on whose lands our quarry was spotted is like to have Wardens arrested on sight as she is to invite us in for tea. We'll not be storming in all bedecked in blue and silver, demanding information." She frowns, and wrinkles her nose at an unspoken thought.
"What are the chances of Detlef coming back for a day or so?"

Edited (she already knows he's good at acting dangit) 2017-01-04 20:04 (UTC)

Though Teren never voices her appreciation of the human shield, she certainly doesn't complain about it either. Being that a stiff wind can and has knocked her over in the recent past (including several times since they've left), her stiff joints and easily-chilled flesh are glad for the respite.
"We'll stop soon," she grumbles, more from general misery than from irritation with Alistair, "seeing as the bloody sun's already deserting us." As if finding their direction wasn't hard enough, traveling at night is made nearly impossible by the absence of stars.

After several long moments of silence, she adds, "Bethany. We'd get the most meat off you, but then we'd have to carry it, and Kaisa's too loud. She'd attract bears and then it'd all be for naught."

It's important to think these things through.

"You really must remember to have a more positive attitude, Anders. After all, remember that this is Teren's mission. She will not brook for unscheduled attacks on her person." Bethany stated with a Very Serious Expression.

She closed the book altogether, her brown eyes thoughtful. "So what do you know of the Architect? Really know, and didn't just hear?"

Bethany would sigh as Teren would wave her off of cooking duty, give her a wry smile as she was shooed away back to bed. She did sneak in some help when Teren wasn't watching, and if she just happened to be awake while someone else was? Well, clearly they should have someone talk to for an hour or so.

Still, she knew she had to be careful, which was why she answered frankly as she looked up from her book, "I haven't been using them at all."

Yes, only her own pool of mana, which was why she couldn't keep the shield up the entire time.

Alistair nods solemnly. Sound logic. A pity that Bethany has to die, though, so while he makes an attempt at freeing his boot where it's sunk deeper than expected and lodged itself between rocks under the snow, he also makes an attempt at saving her: "Kaisa will probably attract bears if we let her live, too."

"Point taken," Teren says, and grips him by the forearm, giving him a yank while trying not to jerk her horse's head too violently (she's letting him take a break and leading him behind her for now). "It's settled, then. The bears eat all of us."

And how he pouts because he's good at pouting even though it's not having any effect, so he sips the drink instead before joining her in a frown.

"Detlef's gone. There's too great a chance he's been heard of. Garrett's what I've used a couple of times now, on errands, and I'm certain that's not going to come back to bite me in the ass." Which is sarcastic, but not because he doesn't see the need for aliases. "If everyone's on board, I can use it."

He smirked at her statement before starting to get serious.

"I've met him. Enjoyed his hospitality for a time, even, for a certain value of enjoyment and hospitality, by which I mean he had me captive in my smalls in a small cell until we broke out. What do you want to know? He's arrogant, convinced he's doing the right thing even when he makes a mess, doesn't actually care about lives but tried to pretend he does..." Anders had just a few opinions, and they might be a little colored by how he'd been held.

"Very well," Teren says with a nod of concession, her eyes still distant and thoughtful as she mulls over her next question. "How are you at playing wealthy?"

Anders grimaces. "Bad. I've never been wealthy, and I don't really... know what is to have money, or what one's concerns are when they're taken care of by wealth. I could talk on Nate over the crystals? Ask him what his childhood was like?"

Teren waves him off, neither upset nor surprised by this. "No, don't bother," she says flippantly, "it was just a thought. I can't have Alistair do it, he's too likely to be recognized."

She purses her lips in thought and squints, her eyes roving around as she observes the camp's denizens. Plotting.

There's apology in his eyes as he nods. For all that he keeps hitting a brick wall with her, she's been there for him repeatedly.

"What did you need the noble to do? There could be another approach, another character to get it done." He's not great at bluffing, but he can be a little convincing if the part isn't too far from reality.

Kaisa handles the journey with an almost admirable lack of whining. Which isn't to say that she doesn't whine, but the quantity is greatly reduced. She weathers the cold with Fereldan durability, and when the snow gets too bad, she tromps ahead to help stomp out a path for the squishy mages and Teren. Alistair can survive just fine.

But maybe the cold is what keeps her complaints to a minimum, because after camp is made, she flops in front of the fire, and lets out a longsuffering whine. Then she rolls over, whines again, and gets distracted by having rolled dangerously close to the embers.

"Somebody suggested to me once that suffering the cold and ice builds humility and character. That's why Tevinter is the way it is." She announces, while patting a slightly charred spot on her sleeve.

"So he's like any other petty despot ... I'm not sure if that's comforting or terrifying because that is a rather human attitude to have." Bethany sighed, as she pressed her fingers into the book. Her brown eyes were contemplative, "How much do you think his help is going to cost me?"

Not 'us', but her personally. She was the one who had started this journey, after all. She wasn't going to drag the rest of them into it.

Now he frowned, studying her.

"What help do you want from him, precisely?"

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[closed] the turn of the screw

The Journey There

Bethany - Camp - OTA

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ota!!

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