[CLOSED] Smoke & Mirrors: Kirkwall

[minrathousian]

WHO: CLOSED to those who signed up.
WHAT: Inquisition personnel work to identify Venatori agents who have infiltrated the Inquisition in Kirkwall.
WHEN: Early November.
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Violence, murder.

In Kirkwall, the threat to the Inquisition is more covert:  four Venatori agents have infiltrated the Inquisition's base of operations in the Free Marches, and have insinuated themselves well into the workings of the organization. Perhaps they have made befriended you, or established themselves as a quiet loner who prefers only to focus on their work, with little interest in socializing. Actionable intelligence suggests that they will take advantage of the Inquisition's reduced numbers in Kirkwall to attempt to seize valuable information. The trouble now is identifying just who the infiltrators are--and stopping them before they access vital information, or create further havoc.

Comments

[venaterribles]

Rufus has no reason to interpret Atticus' hesitance as anything other than trauma, and he stoops to kneel beside him with the same quality of movement as one might use with a frightened dog. "We'll find him, ser," he reassures him, glancing over his shoulder once before extending his hand for Atticus to hold out his shackled wrists. Rufus is here to help, and quickly, but at the end of the day he's still a servant.

"I've been posing as a dockworker for about a week," he says with a smile that's sheepish, but a little proud. "Turns out most people have heard about the two Tevinters being kept in the Gallows dungeon-- cheerful name for it-- and have no problem saying so. Though they seem to think you're Venatori." He quirks his eyebrow, amused by this.

[minrathousian]

"We'll find him, ser," Rufus tells him with all the simpering attentiveness of a slave, and an idiotic one at that. He has to be an idiot, either for believing that this transparent attempt to lure him out of the Inquisition and back into the Venatori's sphere of influence would work... or for genuinely believing that one man could possibly extricate an imprisoned magister from the Inquisition's stronghold in the Free Marches.

It has to be the former.

He gets to his feet under the pretence of moving to the small wooden desk affixed to the wall of his cell, making something of a show of sorting through his papers and books as though trying to gather up valuables before departing; he doesn't give Rufus the chance to unlock his shackles, not yet. "Tell me of Octavius," he says, his back turned to Rufus for now. "How was he taken?"

[venaterribles]

Rufus is a bit surprised when Atticus stands without allowing him to deal with the shackles, but instead of protesting he stands with him and folds his hands behind his back. Large as he is, he provides an imposing figure, or at least would if it weren't for the kind expression on his face, which quickly turns cold at the magister's question.

"Mercenaries, ser," he says grimly, "they came in and took him, with Otho and Theov-his favorite slave." Rufus bristles at the memory. "One of my men was lost in the skirmish." Looking down at the floor, he shakes his head.
"Master Octavius and I had been devising a way to get you back, to send someone, before this happened. We were caught flat-footed, ser. There was no time for it to be anyone but me."

[minrathousian]

Atticus makes a bit of a show of sorting through his documents while Rufus speaks, piecing together the details as they are revealed to him to see if, on their own merits, they stand together to form a coherent whole. He pauses at length, closes his eyes, and allows himself a moment to perform the mental calculus required to come to a conclusion.

Basco is telling the truth.

Octavius, he decides, is in no immediate danger, despite the tolerable casualties to the Nautia estate and staff--not when Calpurnia has much to lose by pre-emptively harming him. His nephew Otho is shrewd enough; a decent ally in the event that Octavius is required to take matters into his own hands and orchestrate an escape. (Theovas doesn't merit additional consideration.) Desperation and inexperience made the boy reckless; sentimentality or blind obedience made Rufus a blind liability. That leaves only one remaining question unanswered, before Atticus must act, must take some necessary step to bring this meeting to an end before the Templar rouses, or the guards appear--

"Does Ophelia know?" This he asks as he turns around and takes a slight step closer to Rufus. His eyes cut over his figure once, searching him haphazardly for any indication that he carries a weapon, something to defend himself, or put down a mage.

Unfortunate, he admits to himself, that it must go this way, but with so much else at stake, he cannot risk leaving the Inquisition's custody in the company of his own guard captain... or allowing any purported infiltrator escape his company after incapacitating a Templar.

It's Basco's own fault, really.

[venaterribles]

The Captain is indeed wearing a knife on his belt, as any respectable man would, especially in Kirkwall. His sword and other more guardly accouterments have been left behind with where he stashed his traveling gear and other indicators of his identity.

He watches Atticus oddly as the magister looks him over, but puts on an ingratiating smile nonetheless. Vedici has always been like this, Rufus has had no reason to think he'd be suddenly happy to see him.
"I don't know, ser," he replies carefully, "missives were sent. Whether or not she received them I had no time to discover."

[minrathousian]

"That's all right," Atticus is quick to assure him, almost kindly, and meets his eyes. If this is how the man must die, it won't do to frighten him unnecessarily; why make it more of a struggle? "Thank you, Rufus."

He starts to extend his shackled hands outwards towards him, then suddenly draws back, eyes gone wide, and looks past Rufus' shoulder, towards the bars. "The Templar guard," he starts in a whisper, "I heard him stir--"

--he waits until the captain of his household guard has turned his back, before he lashes out and snares the hard links of the shackles around the soft meat of his throat.

[venaterribles]

A warm smile and a nod of deference, and Rufus is on the verge of taking hold of the shackles when Atticus gestures behind him. He turns to look, and is caught easily in the trap, giving a yelp of surprise and at once dropping the keys to fumble at the chain now pressing against his throat.
Captain Basco has always been large, a wall of a man, and would be quite formidable if not for his good nature. The former has served him well as a guard, the latter as a leader of them, yet neither serve him at the moment. The trap is already sprung, and neither his bulk nor his charm can prevent it.
Instinctively, he backs up to slam himself and by extension his assailant against the stone wall, an effort to either knock him loose or crush him. The time to think clearly has come and gone, and goes farther as air continues to leave his lungs.

[minrathousian]

All Atticus has in his favour is the element of surprise, a chain that is bound by lock and magic to his body, and the sheer bloody mindedness that is required to commit to strangling another human being to death.

His back hits the wall when Basco slams them both back into it, knocking the wind from his lungs and clacking his teeth against his lip. He grits his bloodied teeth through the smarting pain radiating outwards from his shoulder blades and turns his head to the side, his cheekbone flush to the crown of Basco's head. "Shhh," he has the audacity to hiss breathily as he gives the chain another harsh, shattering yank right against the vulnerable windpipe, the tension in his elbows and forearms making the entirety of his torso shake and tremble, but he doesn't relent. "Don't fight. Don't fight me."

The point of a knee presses into the small of Basco's spine, and Atticus uses all of his weight (and he is a lean man, but not slight) to bear him down to the dank prison floor.

[venaterribles]

Unable to find purchase on any part of the chain, Basco claws at it nonetheless, gasping fruitlessly and barely able to hear Atticus over the roaring in his ears. His resolve weakens by the second, and by the time he receives the knee to his spine, Rufus is easily crumpled to the ground.
The sounds grinding out from his tortured larynx would turn any decent person's stomach, growing more violent as his desperation reaches a head. This is all wrong; he was sent to help, to protect the boy who trusts him, whom he loves so dearly, his... maybe someday they could have discussed it, and the only way to find out was to keep living and watching over him.
In the moment before he blacks out for good, Rufus has the shuddering revelation that not only is Octavius still in trouble, but his mother--
--Lady Vedici, the only woman he's ever truly loved--
--doesn't know where he is. May think he betrayed them.
The last sound that leaves Captain Basco is four hissed syllables barely recognizable as a name, "Ophelia." Then he loses consciousness, and the fight is over.

nuke it from orbit, it's the only way to be sure

[minrathousian]

He holds tight through the guard captain's last, wheezing gasps through what has to be a crushed trachea, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut with the effort required not to relax his grip, not at all, until he's certain that consciousness is well and truly gone. Even then, he relaxes his grip only long enough to shift his weight, to encircle the chains around Basco's throat so that the weight of his own body does the work for his arms. Then, he at last lets himself sag back against the frame of his wooden cot, sweaty and disheveled and bleeding profusely from his mouth, and stares with glassy eyes into nothingness.

It takes a moment for the trance-like state required for him to enter the Fade to arrive, but when it does, he sweeps into it with predatory efficiency. Basco's presence there is so faint, so minute it might as well be a wisp, a bit of spirit detritus that whatever passes for wind in the Fade might do away with at any moment. He's dying.

Atticus grasps him by his shoulder and spins him, his free hand crackling with telekinetic energy, and strikes.