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

[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?"