[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

[minrathousian]

He knows he's being followed, and as soon as he's on the staircase, he breaks out into a full fledged run, taking the stairs three at a time with startling dexterity--but then again,
he likely wouldn't make for a very successful agent if he weren't capable of some physical prowess. All illusion has been discarded in this moment--he knows he's been found out, and the best means of survival at this moment is to escape, to get away, and leave the Inquisition wondering over just how much intelligence he's managed to share with his master's forces--

He bursts through the first available door that he finds and continues his mad sprint away from his pursuer--but over his shoulder, he hurls an ice bolt that flies through the air towards Araceli's legs.

[foxsays]

Gritting her teeth, Araceli chases him down. She knows rooftops, the decks of ships, shifting rope bridges and sands, bargepoles and little boats when the bridges weren't there and she runs without any sort of fear. Instinct takes over, a hand out to help keep her balance with the other on the hilt of her rapier as her heart hammers.

Two years in Thedas and she knows magic well enough that the spell grazes her, makes her stumble when it catches her trailing leg as she keeps going. There are throwing knives on her so she uses the moment she has to toss one not to strike but to see what it'll make him do, if she can force him to pay attention to her, not his surroundings.

[minrathousian]

The thrown knife has the desired effect, and the Venatori agent stumbles apace, throws a glance backward over his shoulder, and has to stagger to avoid bumping into the wall. He's quick to speed up again and bolt around the corner, then stops to whirl around and fling down a fire mine--it's done swiftly, but not so swiftly that Araceli can't twist past it, if she's quick--

[foxsays]

Again, Araceli misses the solid weight of a pistol. Even a warning shot fired just right to panic someone, confuse them, have one or both of their ears ringing so they don't know what they're doing or where they're going. Instead she's got knives, her rapiers that she's too far away from and--

Then the world is bursting around her in an explosion of heat that has her crying out, shaking her head as she struggles back to her feet. You've done worse, she thinks as her ears ring, as the heat licks at her fingers, you had broken bones and a head full of lyrium and you still went and fought Venatori like him. So she pushes herself up, swears and throws a second knife when she takes cover at the corner to hold herself up, breathe some air that doesn't taste scorched on her tongue.

A wild shot, aiming for his legs but she doesn't honestly care.

"The last Venatori I fought were braver than you, cabrón," she spits. And then she's singing because he deserves it.

[minrathousian]

He probably does deserve it.

And he deserves more than a knife to the back of his calf, but--call it good luck or divine intervention on Araceli's behalf, if that's your jam, but regardless, that knife sinks right into the thick flesh of his leg, and with a shout of pain he goes down. He lands hard on his knees and whips around to look at the injury with wide eyes; likely this is the first time he's ever experienced a wound of this calibre, but his horror is short-lived. With outrage in his eyes, he decides to do the only thing a self-respecting Venatori cultist ought to do in a situation like this: leverage blood magic.

There's a sudden hiss from his leg wound, with what looks like red steam rising from the injury, before he looks back at her, clearly drawing upon the power of his own blood to work a spell.

[foxsays]

All things considered, it speaks favourably of the company Araceli keeps despite how varied it is - so many apostates after all - that this is the first time she's seen blood magic in two years of living in Thedas. (The aftermath of the kidnapping might have involved it but dazed as she was, those memories she hasn't ever been in a hurry to recollect.)

No one has ever told her what to do in the face of blood magic. Maybe no one ever anticipated that she'd need to learn too much about it. Silkdart is comfortably secure beneath her sleeve though she's no chance for stealth in this situation, he won't know that it's there. If she can get to the side, if she can move past him.

That's always been where her advantages are. Being small, being fast, being light on her feet.

She still has four knives are her disposal, throwing another one hard to have it clattering past him in the opposite distraction she moves in, drawing her rapier in the right hand as she goes. (She grits her teeth for the inevitable. Blood magic isn't going to be pleasant. Hopefully better than a head full of lyrium the being tossed through the air by a fucking werewolf.)