Such bloody engagements

[foxsays]

WHO: Araceli Bonaventura, Korrin Ataash, Tyrion Lannister, Zevran Arainai
WHAT: We're going to need a bigger boat (we're going to actually need boats plural)
WHEN: Drakonis, 9:48
WHERE: Waking Sea to Orzammarish
NOTES: ooc plot post; language, threats of physical violence and torture

Routine. It was all meant to be routine. Qunari dreadnoughts to outrun had become routine at some point in the last few years same as being absent a left hand and answering to Leandra in public instead of Araceli but when the Inquisition asked something of her, she would still answer. Leviathan for all that she'd given it a seemingly grandiose name was a moderately sized ship suited for speed more than anything else, getting supplies and people where they needed to be and getting the hell away from anything that could take them out.

(If Thedas had cannons but they would be in Qunari hands, in Venatori hands, and the nightmares Araceli had had at first before she'd tucked those away had nearly woken her screaming every night.)

Transporting someone for a diplomatic mission - she'd laughed to Korrin about it, hadn't she? Bitter in a way her namesake would have wept over, what diplomacy is left - but sailing. People hauling the sails, running around the deck. A rifter diplomat so she'd had to pay everyone coming along double to shut their mouths, then had to up a few rations to keep them sweet but this is what you do in a time of war.

She assumes.

"Captain, might want to take a look at this!"

Comments

[tallasaking]

Tyrion could feel his heart squeezing in his chest - if they lost Llomeryn, Denerim and Orzammar all in one blow ...

He rubs his beard, before he gives Korrin a little smirk, then looks back to the prisoner, tipping his head to the side, "Besides, from what I can see -- soon all there's going to be left is the Venatori and your precious Elder One. I do wish you would all wake up and see that all that will be left of you, and the scabs like you, will be splatters on the ground."

He tips his head, "Beyond that - they're going to kill the lyrium trade if they go after Orzammar. Your new world is going to depend on blood -- for blood magic. Such a pity we'll have to stop that from happening. You and the other sacrifices will just have to whine about not getting to die on the slab for your Venatori masters."

He leans forward, "And the only way you are pushing us out of Orzammar -- is if the Elder One himself is coming. Is that true?"

[foxsays]

"There are dwarves plenty of other places. Dwarves have been friends of the Imperium for a long time, if you had ever been then you would know of what I speak. You are the ones hiding in the dark like vermin or stowing away on ships, the last rats left."

The flare of Korrin's magic, Tyrion's prodding, it only stokes his fervor to a final point as Araceli watches in silence because what do you do when everything you sacrificed for is taken away so neatly, when everything turns to bile and grief in your mouth for all the things that might have been but never will be?

"You will know the Elder One's will." And this is where he sets his jaw, eyes blazing with the belief of the zealot. He's willing to die for this because his life is worth nothing with what he has given to them already but it will come, oh he can see it, he can see it already, how glorious a thing it is. "I will greet the new world here or in the heavens, it makes no difference to me now. However it comes I will be there watching you fumble in the dark as the hunger and thirst cut through you worse than any knife or poison ever could."

[gatheringstorm]

And this malicious fervor is getting increasingly tiring to witness. Korrin's patience, already ebbing, drains away. She closes her hand, extinguishing the flame...and then summons a lightning bolt instead to blast and paralyze him. More than that and he'll bear witness from the heavens just as he wants.

Her voice is dull, flat, done. "If you want anything else out of him, better make it quick. My bullshit meter for the day has reached its limit."

[tallasaking]

The look on Tyrion's face, is pitying. This man is so far out of his depth that he is looking for any sort of excuse to hang onto the desperate situation he was in. He'd met these soldiers - so keen on the cause that they were losing that it was better to die than admit they had been duped.

Still, his voice was steel. "Kill him. Do it now, make sure there's nothing left. I have no use for him."

[foxsays]

All she can remember are dead friends, hurting friends, before any of this began and ever since, how there used to be a rapier at her left hip too that she still misses the same as her hand when she draws her blade.

"I will be granted--"

Araceli's rapier cuts off his last words, a quick clean punch through the chest

"Once it's dark out we can dump the body, weigh him down. I'll send someone down to bind him tight, give his body to the sea when it's safe enough that should a ship pass, they won't find a corpse." Her voice is flat she thinks, as if coming from very far away when she pulls her blade back, red with blood. "We should--"

Sail away off the edges of the map like we talked about, sits on the tip of tongue but she bites down, cleans her blade instead. Someone else may take the lead.