faderift | Phylactery Shenanigans

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Phylactery Shenanigans

WHO: Inessa (and Garahel), open to anyone else
WHAT: Suffering various spells, some with area of effect consequences.
WHEN: Over the next several days
WHERE: All over the Gallows
NOTES: OOC notes, CW for mage torture.

Library

Inessa is at her usual spot, books piled up around her table and Garahel curled up on the floor as she reads. It's a typical day, all things considered...at least until a certain point mid-afternoon. She had just stood up, deciding it was time for tea break in her office, when a wave of fatigue overcomes her and she abruptly slumps to the ground. Garahel, in the process of awakening when he heard her stand, falls back into slumber before he can so much as bark. Anyone nearby? Potentially have a sudden nap, as well.

Communal baths

A weary Inessa sinks into the water of the Templar tower baths, feeling the need for such relaxation more than ever. She leans back against the edge and closes her eyes, letting out a sign of contentment as she soaks up to her chin in the heated water. All is quiet for a while, but peace is abruptly shattered when a cone of lightning rips through the area, the water serving as an excellent means to conduct it throughout the bath. Inessa's eyes snap open as she screams, and for a moment nothing exists in her world but pain.

Central Chapel

Checking to see that it's unoccupied, Inessa quietly enters the chapel and takes a seat. That she does so mid-day is unusual; the middle of the night or the wee hours of the morning are more likely to find her there, when she's unable to sleep. However, that need for solace has grown recently. Maybe a few moments here will give her the courage to face the rest of the day, whatever it brings.

She tries to clear her mind, on the verge of succeeding when a cloud of dark energy suddenly expands, blanketing the area. Garahel, seated on the floor by her side, barks in alarm but she barely hears him, overcome by the oppressive weight of the cloud and how it seems to sap the strength right out of her. It takes more than her own strength to fight it and she finds herself unable to move.

Rifts and the Veil office

The day is nearly done and Inessa is collecting her things, nudging Garahel with her foot. It's time to head downstairs for a meal before returning to her quarters, or at least that's the plan. When she hears a knock on her door, the Warden mage perks up and glances over the the door, raising her voice as she lifts her satchel from the back of her desk chair. "Enter." She can certainly take a minute, if it's important.

The moment the door opens, a deafening explosion rips through the office. Inessa is thrown clear off her feet, narrowly missing the chair but slamming against a bookcase as she rolls to avert it. Garahel, reacting quickly, yelps in pain as he tries to shield her from the flames. The singed mabari barks for help; maybe the person who opened the door is better off, or someone down the hall heard them?

Courtyard

Given the incidents that have been occuring, Inessa has tried her best to avoid the courtyard, especially during the busier hours. The magic leveled at her has become increasingly dangerous, after all, and getting others caught up in another blast of whatever isn't something she wants on her conscience. Nevertheless, it's not completely avoidable and during those times she's still not free from what plagues her.

At one point, she's passing through when a violent quake ripples through the area. Crying out, she slips and falls to the ground while Garahel likewise loses his footing. He growls, but that doesn't stop the ground from trembling and knocking them prone when she tries to move again. Deciding to stay put and hope it passes soon, Inessa crouches and glances around desperately just in case someone else is caught up in this as well.

At least at one point, it's not magic that can harm anyone else. She's the sole target, though that's little comfort when she's suddenly trapped in a collapsing cage of telekinetic force, unable to scream or even move as the pressure creates waves of pain throughout her body. Garahel whines loudly, hoping to draw the attention of anyone who can help.

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It's late, and almost no one is here, which explains Teren's presence. Operating under the assumption for the past twenty or so minutes that she was the only one here, she's given quite a fright by the violent, electric popping sound accompanied by a shriek; wrapping a robe quickly around herself, she hurries to the source and is sickened by what she sees.

Teren's first instinct is to haul Inessa out of the water, resulting in a nasty secondhand shock via the charge in the little elf's body, but she weathers it with a grunt and deposits Inessa on the floor. There she begins to pump at the girl's chest, staring fixedly into her eyes, waiting for a sign of life, breathing shallowly herself and significantly more frightened than she's been in recent memory.

At first Inessa is inert, but Teren's efforts begin to pay off. The small elf snaps back to the world of the conscious with a pained, gasp, chest heaving as she coughs up the small portion of water swallowed when the blast hit. Her eyelids feel heavier than they ever have, but she forces them open a bit, still working on focusing them. Her voice is little more than a strained croak.

"...hurts...." Everything hurts and any healing on her part will have to wait until her head stops swimming.

Teren pauses and sits back when Inessa vomits the water, then immediately leans forward again to quiet her, afraid the elf will tax herself in trying to speak.
"Hush now, my girl," Teren says in a too-quiet, steadying voice, looking around quickly before finally spotting a towel she can use to wrap Inessa. There may not be time to wait for a healer, she'll have to carry her and won't have her catching her death out in the cold.
It was so recently that she was helping Inessa to the tower from the courtyard, and Teren curses herself for still not being as strong as necessary, though she is able to get a grip on her and heft the girl partially over her shoulder. "Where's that mutt of yours," she whispers, taking one shaky, plodding step at a time.

"...Ciri." Inessa left Garahel with Ciri, not wanting to take him into the baths or be left to his own devices outside them. She's regretting that a little now, not wanting to make this more difficult for Teren. At least her slight form makes it easier than it otherwise would be, but she can't really offer assistance at the moment.

Teren isn't the only one who heard the scream.

Moments later the door bursts open as Loghain comes into the baths, looking far more prepared for a fight than anyone ought to be given the setting, but he stops, startled, by the sight that greets him; Inessa, obviously in some distress, with Teren beside her. It doesn't take him long to at least deduce that Teren needs some assistance.

"Here," he says to her quickly and comes over to ease Inessa's other arm over his shoulder, and get a grip around the small girl's waist. "Let me help. What happened here?"

Gladly transferring Inessa's weight over to Loghain, Teren takes a shuddering breath. "Something happened to her," she says quietly, hurriedly, "in the water. I didn't see it, but I... felt it." A prickling of the skin, all hairs standing on end, and the jolt she got from Inessa herself.
"Like lightning."

Resting a hand on Inessa's face, she checks her eyes for the umpteenth time, then takes her hand to feel her pulse. It's a miracle she isn't dead. "Have you got your crystal?" Teren asks Loghain, "I've left mine upstairs."

Her eyes remain unfocused, her pulse indicative of someone in shock. She barely notices the transfer, and even if she did is absolutely under no condition to protest it. Her breathing remains labored, and any color she's possessed in her face has drained away. She wants to move, needs to move, but her limbs are unbearably heavy and refuse to cooperate.

"I have mine," Loghain says, already fetching it out from beneath his shirt collar. The pallor of Inessa's face does nothing to reassure him, nor does the unresponsiveness of his limbs. He masters his dread, but it shows some in the set of his jaw as he moves with Teren towards the door.

"Anders," he says into the crystal, once he's activated it, and doesn't bother to mask his alarm, "Anders, are you in the infirmary? Teren and I are bringing Inessa to you, right now."

"Mm?" is his initial reply on the crystal; Hlhe sounds a little out of it, but then his brain kicks in.

"Right. Yes. I'm on my way, I'll meet you there."

"Anders--" Teren begins, whispering it to Loghain, but cuts herself off with a shake of her head. He's already heard, he's coming, and therefore isn't too badly off. Not like this.
"What's happening to them," she murmurs, and, remembering that she's in naught but a robe, tugs it a little tighter around herself. It's cold in here.
"Maker, we shan't get a moment's peace."

By this point, Inessa's eyes have closed again. She's still breathing but not comfortably, and that's the only movement from her at this point in time.

Loghain uses a steadying hand to coax Inessa's head against his shoulder so that, at the very least, her neck won't be unduly strained during their mad dash through the Gallows towards the infirmary. He hears Teren, but can only grunt in response at first. "Neither will they, until this bloody malady is identified," he grunts.

Once they reach the infirmary, he heads over to the first available bed to ease Inessa down onto it, then looks quickly around for any sign of Anders. It's entirely possible they beat him here.

He gets to the infirmary just after them, looking around and frowning until he sees that they're mostly alone. There's circles under his eyes and a bruise on his temple, but otherwise he looks alright.

"What happ- What seemed to happen?" Inessa is sopping wet, which might mean ice... or, seeing what Teren is wearing, the baths. He's casting as he waits for am answer, checking on her heart and lungs first off.

"It must have been a great shock of lightning," Teren explains, stepping back and away from Inessa to allow Anders room to work, though she stares at her face, watching for reactions. "She was in the bath when it hit her, and it shocked me when I pulled her out." Teren doesn't know much about science or why things do what they do, but she understands basic cause and effect.

As Teren was the one to witness the event, Loghain leaves it to her to explain Inessa's condition. He has taken to pacing slowly behind them, a bit like a wolf let indoors.

"Was it a spell?" he asks at last, struggling not to let his frustration at these events from leaking too much into his voice. There on the bed lays a Warden--one of his Wardens. "Was she attacked?"

What Anders can see isn't excessively promising; she was badly scorched by lightning after all, but fortunately it's not beyond the skill of a Spirit Healer. She remains inert as he examines her, an unproblematic patient in one sense.

He frowns at the question, even though it's been coming since the attacks steppe up. There are a few quiet moments as he keeps working, but then Anders sighs.

"Yes." There's a beat as he focuses on the burns, then Loghain gets a glance. "When a mage is taken to a Circle, the Chantry condones, requires, even, blood magic be used in them to make a phylactery. With this, a runaway mage can be tracked anywhere... or attacked anywhere."

He takes a breath. "Someone found our phylacteries. And is hurting us through them." It's terrifying to tell people this, but at least this is to people he trusts.

The burns are visibly less, now, and getting increasingly better.

Teren grits her teeth in an unhappy expression, standing back and gripping both upper arms as she watches Anders work. "Why," she asks, simply. Why would they do this, why now.

Loghain is not easily riled--not anymore, at least--but Anders' words cause him to abruptly cease his pacing. He looks down at Inessa where she lays, his expression darkening with anger.

"There will be a search conducted to find the culprits." It's a statement, rather than a question. (If the Inquisition won't do it, it is implied, he'll do it himself.)

As those burns progressively shrink, the young Warden stirs a little, eyes opening by a slit. She coughs raggedly, making feeble movements, but actually sitting up will have to wait until Anders' healing is complete. Through her narrow view, her eyes begin to focus, slowly realizing she's not in the baths any longer.

"...Anders?" Her voice is little more than a wheeze, but it's there.

"We're here," he replies to his patient. She takes priority. "Loghain and Teren found you. Can you see us yet?"

Anders keeps healing, glancing back up from Inessa to the others. "I've no idea why. They can't know they have mine so it's not blind attempts at retaliation for my actions, at the least, and there's no telling if it's mages alone, or mages and Templars, and so on."

He's still rather sure that if people knew they had his, there would be a bidding war for possession of it. The few years since the Chantry have healed little, as evidenced frequently in Kirkwall alone.

Loghain has no doubt that Inessa will not be pleased to see him, and so with a grimace turns his face slightly away. He won't injure her pride by expecting her gratitude.

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Phylactery Shenanigans

Baths

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feel free to skip over Inessa until she's healed

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