the days that bind us

[exequy]

WHO: Lots of people
WHAT: Recovering lost phylacteries
WHEN: Guardian 23, 9:44
WHERE: The Storm Coast
NOTES: Violence! OOC post over here.

All signs point to the Storm Coast, and once scouts have narrowed down the location it's only a short journey across the Waking Sea to move a small force onto the rocky coast. They row ashore just after dawn in driving rain, and follow the beach for at least a mile before finding a path that actually reaches the top of the cliff. The rain fades to a drizzle but the day remains relentlessly overcast as they hike toward their goal, grey and dim even at noon, with a raw breeze off the water.

Comments

[exequy]

The Maker isn't with them, because the Maker is a passive observer in all things until further notice, but they do make it up the cliff with only a few near-misses caused by handholds or footholds that crumble when touched. There are no other hazards, save the narrowness of the path and the rocky beach waiting below, before the team is able to emerge at the top. Keeping low among the brush and scraggly trees growing around the walls provides a small amount of cover, but not enough to allow recklessnes.

The structure of the old ruin that the mages were seen retiring to between other tasks is one that’s partly crumbled, portions of the walls now filled with wooden slats. It's a small structure, a single room, and in the gaps between the wood warm firelight flickers. Enough shadows pass as people move within to signal at least three people inside, maybe four.

One of them is the singer. The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next. Another two are speaking:

"We cannot continue to use lyrium at this pace," one of them says, Orlesian-accented, in the slow and creaking tones of an old man. "Especially the girl."

The singing stops long enough for a young Fereldan to say, "I'm fine, Aldéric. I don't mind."

"She doesn't mind," another female voice says, warm with approval, or maybe smug with an argument won before it began.

The older man grunts and grumbles, "You need more of us."

There's a door to the building, one that would have been observed before, facing inward—not impossible to reach in the dark, but it would require risking being sighted by the compound's other residents or guards. Or there's an old window, large enough for one person at a time to slide through boarded over with interlocking boards that would be noisy but possible to remove in one piece.

[galvanising]

When they make the top of the cliff and the time comes for creeping through the brush and the remains of the wall on this side, Nell signals Teren to go first. Repairs to the sea-side defenses have clear not been a priority for the castle's current occupants, but that doesn't mean there's no makeshift alarm system hidden up ahead, and she has seen the woman's trap-finding skills in action before.

The rest of them she halts with a raised hand, and they linger tucked behind the wall, watching, listening. The conversation only muddies the waters further about whether they're about to attack hapless victims or willing participants, but perhaps at the end of the day it doesn't matter. She turns back toward the gathered team and speaks, quick and quiet. "Signal for the distraction, and when it begins we'll go around the corner for the door. Inside, priority is taking the mages out of action as quickly and quietly as possible. We will not risk this mission for a couple lives. Understood?"

[pinprick]

Nathaniel's mouth makes an unhappy line, but he nods assent. The Wardens deal with some of the worst monsters in the world, but that is what makes it clearer and easier--they are monsters, almost exclusively, and there is no grey area when dealing with them.

"Understood."

[ichaer]

Ciri, meanwhile, is less unhappy with the plan given from Nell. Although her gaze is focused elsewhere with noted focus toward any unfamiliar sounds that might stand out in the rain. The conversation, she finds, leaves her feeling little or perhaps less than what she felt coming into this mission. Her thoughts are instead circling around the image of Inessa, scared and on the verge of tears, finding little left but to abandon her life in fear.

In the end it was no better than the fear they had lived through at Weisshaupt. She hesitated to fight then but that wouldn't repeat here with her friend's well-being and life on the line.

[galvanising]

Nell nods once it's clear they've understood, and lifts a hand, a quick flare of flame above her palm waved back and forth a couple times in signal, then ducks back down.

A minute later, a loud explosion booms from the other side of the complex, back toward where the rest of the Inquisition team lies in wait. Nell makes a 'forward' gesture with one hand and darts around the corner as planned, crouched low, head on a swivel looking for anyone who might spot them. She keeps near to the buildings and the shadows they provide as she approaches the door into the mage quarters. Once there, pressed up against the wall of the building, she draws the blade at her hip. It's not her staff, but between the close quarters and the phylacteries, this seems like the safer play.

Nell checks back over her shoulder to be sure the rest of the team is ready, quick glances to make eye contact with each of them and ensure they're ready to go. Then she reaches out and turns the knob, easing the door open as quietly as possible.

[exequy]

The explosion rattles the rocks and claims the attention of most of the compound's occupants, and those inside the building are no different. When the door cracks open, two of the people inside are crowded around one of the small boarded-over windows, trying to peer between the slats to see what happened outside. The third is standing behind them, and at first she's the only one who turns at the sound of the door creaking.

She's a middle-aged woman with a soldier's bearing, but she isn't in armor, or armed. She has to duck to the side to pick up her sword and pull it free of the sheath and attached belt.

That's the sound that turns the other two, both wearing robes: a girl no more than seventeen, the one who had previously been seen helping the militia outside shield against fire, and an older man with white hair who's the first to glare and to speak.

"What is this?"