faderift | [Open] Phylactery Phun

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[Open] Phylactery Phun

WHO: Anders and open
WHAT: A lot of magic hitting
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Gallows/Darktown
Content warnings: Does a nathanders thread count...

Healing, open

He's tired. He's tried sleeping in, but that doesn't work very well when the full effect of the captured phylacteries is on display. There's grim determination pushing him forward now as he and Mercy do what they can to keep up. He's moved office away from the main infirmary, though, just in case, and is now in a spare room, set up sparsely.

Mana Clash, open, happening a couple of times

Since the first report of attacks on mages, he's steered clear of people as much as he can, but that's not the easiest in a fortress.

One mana clash hits him in the kitchens, trying to get food while not endangering the mess hall, dropping him to his knees in pain and a mess of shattered plate with peas bouncing everywhere, radiating its mana draining effects all around. Another gets him in his makeshift healing room, as he's trying to mix elfroot potions, making for a slippery disaster. The third catches him as he's getting out of the baths and he cracks his head on the side, mixing blood in the water.

Paralysis, open

It's bizarre. One minute he's cutting herbs, and the next he's stopped, unable to move or do anything except feel panic well up.

For Nate

"Howe, is that feeling?" He's tired, but a large part of his stress has been dealt with and it's nice to tend to his husband. Even if he'll never be able to get rid of the arthritis in Nate's chest for good.

For Vandelin

He's tense when Van comes into his research room, but the elf isn't the source of it. In fact, a little bit of the tension eases and he waves the elf over.

"If this mess doesn't convince people on the fence that what's done to us is unaccepta--"

He doesn't get a chance to finish as the spell hits and spills outward, pain, sudden exhaustion, and paralysis all at once.

For Teren

He knows her fears. For that reason he's steered clear of Teren as best as possible, above and beyond how much he's trying to avoid most.

He needs tea though, needs it badly, so he risks a run to the kitchen... and nearly walks into her.

"I'm sorry. I'll be quick."

[Feel free to wildcard me with any of paralysis, mana drain, or mana clash! Poke me if you'd like something else.]

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Inessa's pouring herself some tea in the kitchen while Garahel inhales the food she placed down for him, preparing for a pleasant half-hour of tea and reading, when that sudden surge of arcane energy hits and knocks the air out of her lungs. She drops her cup in the process, but the sound of it shattering doesn't process compared to the feeling of having her mana drained, and of the sheer pain that follows that process.

Garahel, up in an instant, starts barking in alarm. For once, food is forgotten as his two-legged friends are stricken. The barking helps Inessa to focus as she's kneeling by the floor, fortunately not atop the shattered cup. Not daring to stand just yet, she looks over in Garahel's direction and spots another in similar straits.

"Anders!" Trying to push past the pain, she clings to the edge of the table to hoist herself up. It's a start.

He's going to become a floor connoisseur at this rate. And also an expert on bugs that walk on floors. They're the thoughts that help him breathe through the pain and fear he's feeling as a dog barks distantly and an ant pokes at a pea.

The fog lifts a little as he hears his name and Anders blinks. Inessa. They must have both been hit, which makes this... Anders mentally goes through spells.

"Mana clash," he says weakly, starting to get into a sitting position. "No idea which of us was targeted, but that doesn't really matter, does it." They'd both been hit.

"We may need a public appeal for information on phylactery locations." The amount of research he's gotten done on this is low and also useless.

Loghain is going to suspect the baths are cursed, at this rate.

He strides quickly over to where the mage is struggling in the water and, heedless of his own clothes, reaches down to hook both arms beneath Anders' and at least keep his head above the water. He's no healer, but he tries to inspect the injury to get an idea of just what he's looking at.

Inessa nods wearily at his assessment of the spell, as it seems right enough to her. The exact spell isn't among her own list of spells, but given what's happening to them lately, that doesn't seem to matter. When she speaks, her own voice is quiet and strained.

"No, it doesn't. As strange as it is to say, we got lucky this time. It only affected us. If it were a fireball or blizzard..." She sighs deeply as Garahel offers her his support, so she can reach a chair and collapse onto it. "...we might need to leave the Gallows at this rate, won't we? Or we'll bring harm to others."

"And go where? And how will we manage if we're constantly being hit by things? Are we to be trapped here when those in charge expect us to be ill and cast out when we're under attack?"

He's tired and a little bitter. "This has been the coldest winter in a long time in Kirkwall. We'd need shelter and help. And then we'd not have resources to stage a mission to find our attackers. We should steer clear of people as much as possible, but leaving could be our death."

And after all they've done, they deserve a little protection. Anders gets against one of the cabinets and stays there, leaning against the support.

He coughs, sagging in his yet-unseen rescuer's arms. He's got a pounding headache on top of the agony of the spell, and Anders hates everything a little right now.

A few long seconds after he's pulled out Anders blearily peers up at who has him. Loghain's face makes a little of the tension leave his body.

"Mmngh," he says, eloquent as ever. He takes a breath and tries again. "My towel, on the bench. Can you press it to my, my head?" Much better. Everything hurts and he's cut off from the Fade, but at least he has a friend here.

Carver had come by to grab a bit of elfroot from Anders, having a bit of trouble with his shoulder today (an old injury that acted up from time to time). As he strides in, calling out hello, he almost doesn't notice Anders's predicament, not until he realizes belatedly that the mage hasn't moved since he's been in the room. He pauses, watching him. "Anders? What, that shocked to see me?" Despite trying to be casually sarcastic, something underpins his tone. It just might be worry, especially after what happened with Inessa the other day.

They deserve protection, but the thought of it coming at the cost of others has Inessa's stomach turning in knots. She slumps in her seat, entire body aching but lacking enough to heal him or herself. Even if it weren't for those physical pains, she's just so tired of all of this, as tired as Anders.

"...that could be what they're hoping, don't you think? That we leave the protection of the Inquisition. Perhaps they'd even be waiting to pick us off, though they'd hardly need to...as you say, resources would be lacking." She stares back at him, sad and desperate and not at all feeling her usual productive, proactive self. "My office is a scorched mess, did you know? A fireball went off, and I don't know if it was me or another who entered. We...can't keep going on like this."

It's a relief when his eyes open, though one wouldn't be able to tell that he's feeling it from Loghain's expression. He grimaces and squeezes Anders' shoulder once, then carefully lays him down on the floor. "Try not to move," he says gruffly, heaves himself up to his feet, and then heads over to the bench to fetch the aforementioned towel.

"Here," he says a moment later, and applies a gentle pressure with the towel to Anders' head injury. He grimaces again. "I'm no field medic, Anders, I can't tell you how bad the damage is."

It had felt like an eternity when he was stuck still alone. Now Carver is here and it feels like a whole other eternity beefier he's finally free, gasping for breath and leaning against his table.

"Yes. Shocked," he groans, trying to make a joke of it in return. "You know how it is. Something about you not tending to darken my door."

"Remind me to teach all of the wardens basic field medicine... sometime." If he ever has downtime. The half-joke is about all he can manage at the moment.

"I don't think anything serious is done, but I can't even tell you yet." Maker. He's their spirit healer and about all he can do is decide this floor is superior to Darktown's and the kitchens, but not as nice as the warden office floor.

And be a burden on one of the people who he looks up to. He can do that too.

He doesn't want to endanger anyone else. But they've just been needed to save several dozen, and if they're shoved out in the cold now...

"We can't keep on like this, no. I don't know what to suggest or do, but we do need to do something. And sooner rather than later. It's not like they can do much worse, but we're going to get more and more run down." And the people around them will get less and less patient.

"We need a lead. Can you speak with Beleth when she's available again? I doubt she cares to hear from me, but we need to see if we can find anything..." He trails off. He can't just hide. "No. I'll speak with her."

Everyone is a burden, at some point or another. Loghain would remind him of that, if he were capable of reading minds.

"We'll add it to the agenda," he mutters wryly.

His own towel is nearby, and hadn't seen any use since Loghain hadn't had the chance to even get in the water. Getting up again, he crosses over to the bench to fetch it, then comes back to Anders and offers it out to him. "For your," and he clears his throat. You know. Your modesty.

"I'm afraid of what 'more and more run down' is going to feel like, at this rate." Noting his hesitation, Inessa tries to stand to close the distance. Grunting worriedly, Garahel moves to assist. "I can go with you, then you need not take this on alone. And I would much prefer doing more than dreading the next incident."

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. " The Circle had driven most modesty instincts out of him, but Loghain absolutely never had to bathe with Templars watching. "Sorry. Circle baths were never a place for privacy."

He sits up with a grunt before taking the towel and draping it over himself one - handedly, other hand still holding his to his head.

"Permission to hunt down and murder these assholes as soon as we've a lead?" He tries to make it sound like a joke, but there's no joke to it. They've chosen to torture mages, likely with no idea as to any of the mages' identities. They need to die.

"Which is why we need help. We can't handle this alone anymore."

Initially, as horrifying as the attacks had been, they had been manageable. They're not anymore.

"And you can come if you'd like. I questioned her call publicly and I've no idea how she'll feel about speaking with me. But it needed to be questioned, as it was a call made without gathering important information."

Namely, input from the healers at the heart of the illness. Anders slowly, stiffly gets to his feet, grimacing at the pain and continued absence of magic.

Edited 2018-02-15 21:40 (UTC)

"Well, my -one?- encounter with her had been civil. Perhaps that will balance out any ill feelings...and besides, our desperate situation should take priority." Inessa lets Garahel guide her over, likewise moving stiffy and wincing here and there. "First, though, we need some healing. I don't fancy the thought of ascending all those stairs in this state and I doubt it would be enjoyable for you, either."

"Granted," Loghain replies with the barest of smirks, then adds almost curtly later, "I'll field any complaints Alistair may have." He doubts he'll encounter much resistance from Nathaniel, all things considered.

"Let me help you up," he volunteers. "Should I get you to the infirmary?"

Loghain's permission is a welcome relief in this situation. Warden leadership, or at least 2/3rds of it, will accept him getting vengeance. The hard part is finding culprits. Or surviving long enough to do so.

"My rooms, please. It doesn't feel like serious damage was done, and the infirmary is overtaxed as it is. I can't add to that. My magic should return in an hour or two and I can fix this then."

He holds out an arm for Loghain to take, ready to help help himself.

"I'm not going to be a burden on the infirmary." He struggles upward, in pain but still managing. "I have dealt with worse. Not for a while, mind you, but I have. And while I'm getting older, I can at least not make more work for my team. But we can get you help."

The infirmary is there for everyone. It's hard to accept, though.

Inessa still watches him in concern, not exactly approving, but unable to order him since he outranks her. "If you insist, but you'll still have assistance." Garahel grunts in agreement, looking up at Anders. He's big and sturdy, and doesn't mind playing support if it's wanted. "I'm ready to move when you are."

It's an eternity for Carver as well, who's faced with the troubling scenario of what to do when the healer needs healing. But whatever paralyzed Anders seems to let up when the other man finally moves, gasping sharply.

"I don't have much reason to come here." He approaches Anders, now honestly a little concerned. Damn it Anders, why are you making him feel such things? "What was that?"

He looks over at the younger man, pressing his lips together. Carver's a Warden. It means he can keep secrets... plus it's not really like any of this is going to stay secret for much longer at all, not with mages bursting into flames. Anders exhales, glancing away.

"Unless I miss my guess, the paralysis spell. A stash of phylacteries was discovered by someone, or someones who," he sighs, "who feels nothing wrong with hurting other mages. Phylacteries being the blood magic the Circle uses to track and hurt mages who aren't obedient enough in their eyes. And if you could not let it slip that I'm being hit with it, I'd appreciate it. I'd like to not look too vulnerable."

"I know how thin we're stretched. I see it when I'm on duty. I can't... I insist."

He can't bear to put more strain on them. They're his staff, even if he's not in charge of them. His team, even if he's Warden and not Inquisition. Anders shakily gets to his feet and stands there for a moment, finding his balance, before nodding at her.

"Let's get you there, and then I'm going to go up and take a nap, I think. Garahel, help her?" He's been hunted by Templars and fought against all sorts before. He can take this.

Garahel pads over and Inessa rests a hand on him; that support helps considerably, even as she grits her teeth against the pain of moving at all. She does nod over to Anders, relieved that he's following through on that much.

"As long as you get some rest, I'll say no more on it. Onward, then." The tea break is officially over, not that it was much of one to begin with.

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[Open] Phylactery Phun

Mana clash, kitchen

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Mana clash, the baths

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Paralysis

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