[closed] tiptoe through the tulips

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, Wren, James, Simon, Hanzo, some new friends
WHAT: The time has finally come to return Benedict to his people. Something maybe goes a little bit wrong.
WHEN: Early Bloomingtide
WHERE: southern Tevinter
NOTES: Warnings for violence.

Three Templars, a magister's son, and a Shimada cross the border from Hasmal to the Tevinter Imperium: it sounds like a joke, and in many ways it probably is, but to Benedict it just seems like overkill.
His mother requested the Templars, ostensibly for protection against the southern apostates driven mad by their little war; Hanzo, a man whose name he recognizes but is too young to properly remember, presumably tagged along for the practical benefits of visiting Minrathous without the Inquisition's grandeur.

Magister Calpurnia Artemaeus awaits them at the family home, and all they have to do is get there. Surely the nightmare will soon be over.

Comments

[altusimperius]

[jk I'm doing it]

Hanzo's arrow finds little purchase, between its wielder being out of breath and considerably outweighed. His hands are dragged behind him by a much larger pair, who holds him on the ground with a knee to his back as ropes are tied. The man is bleeding a little, but was only scratched.

The archer fires again at Simon, stepping nervously back and away, aiming for his legs in hopes of slowing him before he can kill anyone. The person dealing with Wren cries out as she takes a nasty gash to her leg before dancing back and then quickly forward again, stomping all her weight onto the Templar's sword arm. The man who struck Bene unconscious turns his attention now to Wren as well, and steps on her back to keep her from retaliating.

The rogue toying with James feints at him, pulls away, and darts in again, quick motions designed to hold his concentration. The second half of this strategy becomes clear when the first mage, the one who seems to be in charge, mind blasts James from behind, intending to knock him off his feet. If successful, they both leap atop him to start tying his feet and hands before he can get his bearings.

Whatever the attackers want of the party, it's clearly not to kill them.

[judgemewhole]

James, alas, is so focused on the rogue that he doesn't see the mage. However as much as he might be stunned, he is still a Templar, and when you are a Templar you at least know how to shout out a Prayer to Dispel Magic, as best you can. He's on his knees, and while his shield is too far away, he can at least try to slash at his attackers before they overwhelm him, or at least land a solid, armored punch on one of the bastards before they have him tied again.

[limier]

Boot finds her wrist, and the snarl curling her lips chokes into an abrupt warble of pain. Her free arm strains up, steel claws scrabbling for purchase in the wound, a handhold by which to drag the woman down.

Her palm closes about calf only a moment before the second heel connects with her spine. A flash of blood from the corner of her eye (Simon? Momentum of a fucking druffalo) — and pinned at three points (four) — there’s only so much that struggling does.

Norrington flounders. The Vint, spent. Fear rises, meets and mingles with a stomach sunk low.

Someone's really going to have to kill Artemaeus.

[paladingus]

Simon might volunteer enthusiastically for that duty if he ever gets the chance, but Benedict is the last thing on his mind right now. One arrow can be brushed off for a moment in the red haze of combat, but two is too much to demand that his body bear, and it slams just above his knee--another too-large target even through the skirts, practically beckoning--to bring him crashing to the ground.

His reach isn't long enough to exact revenge from there. He clutches his sword with futile determination, but nobody's stupid enough to allow him to use it.