faithlikeaseed: (pb - you're kidding right)
Myrobalan Shivana ([personal profile] faithlikeaseed) wrote in [community profile] faderift2017-09-09 07:36 pm

[CLOSED] For the world's more full of weeping,

WHO: Sina, Kit, Myr; later: Yngvi, Herian, Kaisa, Nari
WHAT: Something's not right about a warehouse down by the docks...
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway, while the rest of the Inquisition's off playing Hello Kitty Island Adventure
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Warnings for child abuse and abandonment, implied violent death.


There's a warehouse down near the Kirkwall docks with a mystery crouched inside it.

Myr had smelled it first on passing by the place: Decomposing meat, spilled bowels, rotting corpse. Something wrong, even in the bad parts of Kirkwall; something that demands investigation.

He'd left a glyph nearby to remind him of the place, returned the following evening to hunt around for the source of the smell. It wasn't so hard to isolate it to the one particular warehouse, not with the mephitic funk of recent death oozing from the back windows. Lingering long enough to place another marker, he caught the faintest high-pitched wail--and had to flee back to the road to evade the warehouse's inattentive guardian before he could make certain of what he'd heard.

Quiet inquiries made of passers-by didn't serve to unravel the mystery. Not many of them were inclined to speak to an elf--but the scraps he could garner were food for suspicion. It was empty; someone's cousin-or-other had heard it was up for sale; the single guard's posted to keep away squatters; no one knows or cares what had been stored there before.

A tidy story. A dull story. A story that doesn't explain the stench or the sound. Someone needs to dig further into it; how convenient that someone's here to dig.

It isn't the first time Myr's acted on mad impulse since coming to Kirkwall; it is the first time he's hesitated long enough to question if it's safe for him to do this alone. Elves are disappearing from the city and none of the authorities care. What's one more killed for nosing around somewhere he doesn't belong, even if--especially if--he's a mage? It wouldn't be hard to walk away from this. No matter the itching sense of urgency in the back of his head, he could walk back to the docks and hand this over to the Inquisition guard there. It would be the safe option.

The wind shifts, bringing with it the scent of rot. You don't have that kind of time. He clasps the sending crystal at his neck, awakening the enchantment and thinking of Kit and Sina.

"Have you two got time to come to the docks? I've turned up something down here I don't like." His description of his find is quick and to the point and doesn't neglect that heart-chilling, half-imagined cry.
ragweed: (kit | hoodie)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-12 08:25 pm (UTC)(link)
When Kit reappears, it's behind them, rather than in front of them. He clears his throat to get their attention, hovering in the mouth of an alley that leads deeper into the recesses of the docks.

"Found a way in," he tells them, sending a quick furtive glance over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't followed; he wasn't. "Think it's going to be a one-way trip, though. We'll need to find another way out." 'Another way,' he anticipates, which will involve him having to deal with the guard in front of the warehouse, one way or another.

He looks between his two companions, not wanting to be uncharitable in assessing their conditions, but not wanting to ask them to do this if they don't feel up to it. "If you don't want to do this..." he starts, offering them a way out, but pointedly not asking them to stay back. In their shoes, even if he were bleeding out, he knows he'd risk life and limb for duster kids, too.
eolasemah: (angry)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-12 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"We must," Sina whispers, shaking her head and stepping past Kit with urgency. Getting out, she can handle: the nice thing about roots is that they can grow through most anything, and break it apart in the process.
ragweed: (kit | crouching)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-13 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Whoa--hold on--" Kit says, quickly stepping after Sina, with a wary glance ahead of them down the alley. He looks from her to Myr, then back again, giving her a significant look; someone's got to help him.

"Let me take point."
eolasemah: (uncertain)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-13 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
Slowed when prompted, Sina immediately turns back to clasp Myr's hand, seeming to realize that she's being rash. "I can make us a way out, if it should come to that," she says in a low voice, "it will not be instant, but if we can stay quiet long enough, it will work." And have the happy bonus of possibly ruining the day of any pursuers, though she prays it won't come to that.
ragweed: (kit | hoodie)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-13 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Kit will make his apologies to Myr later, once they've successfully infiltrated the warehouse and confronted the grisly scene that will undoubtedly await them there.

"Sounds like we've got the closest thing to a concrete escape plan that we're going to get," he replies heavily, then turns to head into the alleyway. "C'mon, stay close--we shouldn't split up." There are more dangers dockside than just whatever nefarious goings-on are happening in that warehouse.

He leads them through the alley with stealth and intuition honed by over a decade in the Deep Roads; if there was anyone else lurking back there waiting to visit misfortune upon them, Kit manages to ensure they bypass the danger well. Eventually the maze of back passageways spill them out onto the backside of the warehouse, where crates are stocked high against the walls for safekeeping. They're all empty, but the lingering scent of death clings to the wood.

Kit leads them over to the crates and points up at the small window cracked open; it's just within reach of the highest crate. "It's scaleable," he tells them quietly. "We should be able to get in that way." Myr will be a challenge--but they'll manage it.
eolasemah: (horrified)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-14 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
At Kit's prompting, Sina squeezes Myr's hand, then releases it. Though it's unfortunate circumstance that has made her so lightweight, it means the crates are easy for her to traverse; she climbs them carefully, pausing only to cover her nose and mouth with a gasp of dismay. The odor up here is so much more pungent, drifting out the window with such power that it makes her eyes water-- she loops her shawl around the lower half of her face, hoping it will help even temporarily.

One of the benefits of Sina going first is that she inadvertently lights the way, her shard glowing even beneath the layers of fabric draped over it. As she peers into the room, she can make out sluggish movement, the harsh green glow illuminating large blinking eyes set in faces so thin as to be skeletal. And so small.

"Da'lenin," she chokes, the word nearly a sob as she slips through into the room.

Edited (I took it in an entirely different direction lol) 2017-09-14 06:39 (UTC)
ragweed: (kit |screaming)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-14 03:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Kit follows them up last, figuring if someone has to catch Myr if he slips, it's better him than Sina. But going last means that Sina's despairing cry reaches him before he has the chance to see what inspired it. Dread sinks its claws in anyway; he has a feeling he already knows.

And he does--yet somehow, it's so much worse.

"Ancestors..." The children below them are confined to cages like they're little more than animals. Some move; some don't. It's hard to tell if the little bodies are still from sickness or exhaustion, or something far worse. Kit shudders, red rage threatening to black out his vision for a moment; whatever monsters did this to these kids, he'll embed his axe deep in their skulls, he'll split them in two like a fucking ripe melon--

"Okay," he starts, forcing his voice to steadiness, and turns to both Sina and Myr, "we've got to get them out. I can deal with the guard." 'Deal with.'
eolasemah: (sad)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-15 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
Between the smell and the horrific sight, Sina suddenly doubles over with a sob that can't be contained. It's too horrible, no doubt the worst thing she's seen since The Incident with Pel and Herian, and it's times like these that it's hard to forget how young she really is. Bless Myr and his spell, which calm her down enough to answer with a tearful "five."
With tears still streaming openly down her face, Sina lets herself collapse the rest of the way in order to kneel and crawl forward toward the cage, where she curls her fingers around the bars and gives them a feeble tug. When they don't give, she presses her hands to the floor, focusing, trying to find a crack or any weakness that she can exploit for what needs to be done.
"Iras ma ghilas, da'len," she begins to sing, as quietly as she can, ostensibly to comfort the children, but no doubt for herself as well. "Ara ma ne'dan ashir ..."
Finding what she needs, Sina presses her palm to the floor. It begins to glow, and though nothing happens right away, her own song and Myr's aura are helping her focus.
Edited 2017-09-15 07:03 (UTC)
ragweed: (kit | sword in hand)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-15 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
The warm wash of the magic over him can't chill him more than the sight of the little bodies in that cage. He almost wishes he believed in gods the way the elves and humans do, so that he could have someone to pray to, to beg that some creator would take this memory away from their young minds. Maybe the youngest will be spared it; the oldest, though--

Sina's sob pierces his heart, and before she can fall to her knees completely, he places a hand on her shoulder and promises her, "We're getting them out--we're taking them home."

"Leave him alive, Kit."

His answer is a strained noise of assent. Then he turns and heads for the warehouse door, strides both swift and silent. He doesn't reach for the axes on his shoulders, though realistically, if he needed to kill a man, he could do it with his bare hands. The door is closed; Kit knows the likelihood of making his ambush effective is up to chance as much as it is timing. He goes still, squinting, and turns his good ear on the door to try and listen for the guard's subtle movements at his post. He waits, waits for the moment the man settles himself further into his seat on the stoop--

--then Kit slips through the door, and in an instant has his arm secure around the guard's neck, hauling him quickly back into the shadows of the alleyway.
eolasemah: (sina down)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-18 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Dirthara lothlenan'as," Sina continues, her voice untrained but pleasant, though it would no doubt be moreso if she weren't crying. The green light of her shard reflects eerily on the little watching faces of the children, all of which (of those awake) are trained on the lock of the cage. A vine has begun to snake up through a crack in the floor, making it bigger as it goes, and Sina is guiding it very carefully into the keyhole. Several more have branched off to wind around other parts of the lock, preparing to pull it apart as their strength grows.
"Bal emma mala dir..."
ragweed: (Default)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-18 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
When Kit slips back into the warehouse, it's without the guard; judging by the sweat on his brow and the bruise starting to swell just below his left eye, the effort required to subdue the fellow completely wasn't without some risk. He doesn't yet report what he did with the guy, instead stopping short to watch Sina work her magic; it unnerves him, the same as any spellcasting might, but his knee-jerk aversion to it is easily overridden by his desire to see that cage torn to pieces.

He waits until either the spell is complete, or another good moment to interrupt presents itself. Then, with his sending crystal in hand, he asks both Sina and Myr, "We're going to need some help getting them out of here. And the guard," he adds to Myr. "I didn't kill him--he's trussed up and knocked out behind the warehouse."
eolasemah: (uncertain)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-19 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
The vine has grown bigger, its branches more numerous, and the lock is beginning to strain. "Tel'enfenim, da'len," Sina sings, with a glance to Kit, her tone more distracted and hurried now. She gives the lock a tug with her left hand, and it gives a little groan of tension, just about to burst.
"Nari," she whispers, "call for Nari."
ragweed: (Default)

[personal profile] ragweed 2017-09-19 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nari," Kit repeats, nodding to himself as much to Sina and Myr; yeah, she's... steady. His mind is racing, searching for the names of someone, anyone, he might call; he thinks immediately of Vandelin (always of Vandelin), but what good could come from telling him about this now, when he's too far away to be of any help to anyone? In frustration he paces a few steps, trying to think of someone else, anyone else--

Yngvi and Kaisa. He starts to set up the call, then looks to the dead body of the elf as Myr draws attention to it. "Maybe if we could just cover him, for now," he says quietly. It seems disrespectful to just leave the dead laying there, but he isn't sure what else to do with the body just yet.
eolasemah: (uncertain)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2017-09-20 05:28 am (UTC)(link)
Sina pauses at the name Herian, but then simply shakes her head and closes her eyes to concentrate. She and Herian have never gotten along great, but the woman is competent and fully prepared to take on the seriousness that is this situation. Sina doesn't have to like someone to want them at her side in a crisis.

The lock gives a final groan and snaps open, at which point Sina immediately ceases her spell and pulls it from the cage. The vines are still there, but they part to allow her to wrench the door open.

"Come, ma da'adahlin," she whispers, having to crawl partially inside-- and gagging once again at the stench-- to wrap her arms around the first baby and pull her back towards freedom.
"Myr," she says, trying not to choke, calling his attention to the infant so she can pass her off to him. Once answered, she dives back in for the second.