Closed Mission: The Cult of the Red Glowing Thing

[sorcerised]

WHO: Arohaerd, Teren, Isaac, Connor 60, Anders and Merrill
WHAT: Project: Red Lyrium. On the outskirts of the Fallow Mire is a group of cultists who are worshipping a rather large chunk of red lyrium they discovered hidden in the area long after the Inquisition left it. They've gotten away with it for so long because it's a remote area after the mire was abandoned due to corpses. But a passing caravan ran afoul of the cult, who are all in various stages of transformation, and only one person made it out alive to tell the tale. The group has been ordered to kill these cultists and destroy the red lyrium.
WHEN: Shortly after the rescue of captives from Minrathous.
WHERE: Fallow Mire, Ferelden
NOTES: Violence and death, burning of infected corpses.

Prompts in headers.

Comments

The Battle

[sorcerised]

[ At first count, there seems to be nine of them. Four more emerge as they get close, all of them in the latter stages of infection. Some look worse than others, but they all look bad; their bodies look wrong somehow. Flesh and muscle seems to have wasted away, and when they see the group's approach, they move at once to protect their supply.

Behind and beyond them, the chunk of red lyrium that attracted them spikes out of the ground, infecting the land as much as the cultists. Seeing it, Aro's small dragon Iessa flaps high above the group and lets out an eager hiss. Static prickles around her teeth. She's going for the stone first, and the cultists after.

Aro takes position, his own electricity crackling around his hands. They only have moments before the cultists reach them. ]

If any of you want a magical boost, now is the time.

Re: The Battle

[connorrk800]

He should feel bad about this, but he doesn't. It's true that he's here to kill people- human beings. But it's his mission; they are threats to others. It hasn't been long since Connor became human himself, and he still doesn't know what most of the sensations he feels are rightly called but he knows this one: it's purpose. No, he's extremely calm about the plan to wipe out the entire group of them.

When Arohaerd offers magical aid, Connor doesn't hesitate. Whatever the phenomenon is called, it's as real as anything else he has encountered here. If he can set aside his skepticism that a machine has become human, well, he could believe in magic too. Besides, the Inquisition loaned him a basic staff, mostly for shattering the lyrium, and engaging the cultists in hand-to-hand combat risked infection. He would need something beyond his capabilities...

"I'm ready," he says, stepping forward focused and grave. "What will it do to me?" he asks belatedly, an afterthought.

[justice_is_blond]

There's clearly no saving them. It's rough to see how twisted everyone is, how gone, but there's also nothing left to do save eliminate these cultists.

"I've my own magic," he says quietly as the green of Creation magic surrounds him and barriers go up around the group. "But thank you."

His staff gets pulled off his back before the glow of his hands turns to reds and oranges - fire. "Yell if you get hurt, especially if it's a cut. That will need to be seen to right away." Thankfully they've two healers here. It's not often this particular workload is shared, and he appreciates it.

[connorrk800]

Green light shimmers over him like a wave. He raises a hand curiously, fascinated as he watches it play over him, not unlike a malfunction in his skin. His skin is flesh and blood now, easily torn and bruised, fragile but regenerative.

Connor nods at him. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind." Knowing that this man will be able to repair him if he becomes damaged makes Connor especially eager to protect him from harm. Damage... It's the only thing that gives Connor pause. The odds are very good that he will be damaged in some way. He will need to be careful. Most damage could be repaired, he supposes, but... it will hurt. He'll feel pain, and there's nothing that can be done to prevent that.

One of the cultists has broken from the others. Surprisingly swift, they're dashing recklessly for them. Connor steels himself; he can't meet them head on. He twists the staff in his hands and prepares to trip him the moment he is within reach. It would give his allies an advantage.

[chainlightning]

Oh, dear.

[ The cultists look horrid. Merrill shakes her head, even as she readies herself. Anders has cast his own barrier - and by the Creators, has she missed fighting with a healer - and Arohaerd has lightning. Merrill- well, Merrill has something else entirely.

A cloud of chaotic energy seeps onto the field, targeting the main group of cultists. If they're very lucky, they'll all fall asleep - or be stunned, or slow down. All, however, would require a great deal of luck, and Merrill will settle for one or two. At least it'll mean less backup for the one Connor is getting ready to trip. ]

[doneisdone]

"NO MAGIC," comes Teren's gruff bark as she embeds the blade of one dagger in one cultist's neck, slashing at a second with the other moments as they approach. Some people like buffs or on-the-spot healing, and Teren is not one of those people. How in the name of fucking Maferath does she always end up surrounded by mages?

A shock of lightning zips through the damp mud and gives her a jolt, causing her to send an accusing look Aro's way. don't get cute

[justice_is_blond]

"Last time I didn't put barriers around everyone someone got their throat slit," Anders says, sounding entirely unrepentant. "Yes, some magic!"

He twirls his staff, blade sticking in the flesh of a cultist before he sends straight force magic down the staff and into the cultist, rather effectively turning the man's chest into what might pass for pudding. With a jerk he gets the blade free and he turns, looking for the next target, as the cultist's corpse crumbles.

[connorrk800]

As the cultists move in- and are efficiently dispatched by his allies- Connor sees the area around the outcropping of red lyrium gradually clear out of cultists. It would seem they were not anticipating anyone would target it, or over-estimated their abilities to kill any who would dare.

He sweeps the feet out from under the foolhardy cultist, making him faceplant neatly into the mud. Someone else will take care of him. Connor ignores him completely as he regards the trees ringing the hideout. After a moment's hesitation, he springs onto the gnarled roots of a great oak, sprints up its trunk and hunches on one of its great branches all in one fluid movement.

[sorcerised]

Aro sends a grin in Anders' direction when the barrier goes up. He won't be complaining about that. He has a shield of his own, but it can't shield multiple people, and this means it doesn't need to. Instead his hands crackle with electricity which shudders through every cultist that touches him. Iessa flaps her wings and soars skyward, before letting out a high-pitched cry and breathing a cone of lightning all around the enemy.

"You sure about that?" he asks Teren, as Iessa's breath blasts a cultist away from him. That leaves him free to chase after Connor, while the dragon distracts any that try to chase him. The electricity disappears from his hands as he looks up into the tree.

"It'll let you breathe lightning, like her," he says, nodding at the dragon. "Do you want it? Your choice. You seem to have things under control, anyway."

[connorrk800]

He looks down at Aro, glances over at his creature as he balances, cat-like, on the tree branch. It surprises him slightly how little trepidation he has about emitting lightning. When it dawns on him that, once, currents of power had been to him as natural as the breath in his lungs he quirks a grin.

"I do."

[sorcerised]

Aro gives him a quick, sharp grin. He'd honestly expected everyone to say no, given this world's strange wariness of magic. He reaches up, needing contact for the spell to work.

"Well then. Grab my hand!"

Assuming that Connor does, he'll notice the pendant around Aro's neck beginning to glow. Soon, that glow will spread to their hands.

"Darastrix Frahr," he murmurs, under his breath. The glow spreads to Connor, and Aro lets go. Stepping back, he reaches for his crossbow again.

"All right. All you need do is open your mouth. Close it to stop the spray. Make sure you aim it at them!" Which is probably obvious, but it bears saying, anyway.

[connorrk800]

Connor eases back down the branch and reaches out to Arohaerd. He watches with a surprisingly childlike wonder as the glow spreads from the mage's hands onto Connor. When he lets go, he doesn't doubt that he can do as the small dragon does. "Thank you," he says shortly then scrambles back into the branches like he was made to traipse about on tree tops, like he's half-squirrel.

And with one smooth movement he launches himself across the clearing, barely making contact with the branches opposite before springing onto the weighty trunk of another tree. A few cultists dizzily whirl around in an attempt to follow the movement but he's already on the other side of the compound and his allies are pressing their attack.

One hapless cultist stares a challenge at Connor as he races to intervene between him and the lyrium. Connor fixes his gaze on him and opens his mouth. The cultist doesn't even scream, which pleases Connor. He leaps down nimbly and draws the staff from his back.

"Mission: accomplished," he says as he winds up to smash the lyrium.

What to do with all these bodies

[sorcerised]

[ By the end of the battle, they're left with a sad mess of distorted bodies. Now that the threat of them is gone, Aro finds it difficult to feel anything but pity. Iessa is on the ground by now, nosing her way through them and looking for more red lyrium to set her lightning to. ]

Don't touch them, they're as infectious now as they ever were. [ He looks pointedly at her and she reluctantly hangs back. Aro uses his quarterstaff to turn them over, and now calls to the others. ]

I really don't know about...funeral rites, here. [ These were cultists. He has no idea what they would even want, but he's willing to bet it wouldn't matter anyway. ] I was told burning them was the thing to do.

ota, group or solo

[wythersake]

Leave their robes on. Find wood — and metal, if you can. The caravan; we need rid of it too.

[ bodies don’t burn well. better, once the fat splits free, but they'll need help.

more importantly: it's something for idle hands to do. a task to get them out of isaac's grim face and off at something useful (he doesn't like this any better than the other times, the other faces).

slightly muffled, from beneath the cloth wound about his mouth, ]

Your gloves will keep you, [ probably. they'll find out. ] Just don't go chewing it.

[ to the nearest person: ]

Help me move them?

[connorrk800]

Connor looks at Issac askance the moment he mentions touching the bodies. The Inquisition had loaned him long, thick, tough gloves for this mission. He had now been human longer than he'd been an android. Regardless, the thought of becoming sick is... extremely uncomfortable to Connor. Frightening, he corrects himself; he's human now, and he's scared of what the lyrium could do to his new body. And so he abruptly leaves as soon as Issac asks for help with moving the corpses, oblivious- or uncaring- of just how transparent his aversion is.

He returns with a large bundle of dead wood gathered from nearby copses, and looks to Issac for direction. "Where should I put this?"

[justice_is_blond]

Right.

[Moving bodies is never an enjoyable task, but it has to be done. Anders checks his gloves again before joining Isaac and bending to pick up this cultist by the armpits.]

Where are we stacking them?

['Where do we want the pyre?' really.]

There's a bit of a clearing over there, less chance of it spreading to the trees.

[doneisdone]

Why not here?

[Already having the Blight makes Teren a bit cavalier about contagion, but even she has pulled a scarf up over her nose and mouth for this part- she's got her leather gloves on as always, which are by now coated in cultist blood.]

We'll be lucky if we can get them to light up at all in this pit.

[sorcerised]

Well, that's what the kindling's for.

[ Aro looks businesslike and determined. The only thing he's really determined to do is to get this part over as soon as possible. He's not particularly squeamish about either disease or corpses, but it's not a pleasant thing to deal with either way. He beckons to Iessa, who follows him with an eager chirrup. ]

We can take apart that caravan, and light it up with magic if we need to. One step at a time.

Homeward Bound

[sorcerised]

[ At the end of it all, they leave behind a dying pyre, and ground that ought to be cleansed. Smoke is still rising behind them, and Iessa now walks beside Aro, clearly pleased with her day's work.

Aro looks around the team. ]

Thank you, all of you. I know that wasn't easy.