faderift | { CLOSED } Seeking Out Missing Woman with an Anchor

"Patience is a virtue, but I'll admit mine has been tested as well. Let's not squander this chance." Watching the husband and wife depart, Inessa glances back over at Tessa and Church only when they're sufficiently far enough away. Straightening, she heads toward the house with Garahel in tow, the mabari eager to get moving after all that inaction. There's no telling how long the couple will be gone, so they'd better act fast.

But as they reach the door, he seems to tense and looks at his two-legged friends with a soft whine. Stroking his head, Inessa keeps her voice calm. "I know, something is wrong. We'll have to be careful, all of us. Remain outside and let us know if they return...or if anyone else approaches."

"Uuuuuuuuugh, this is why I can't be a scout." Trust Church to make light in a situation like this, stretching and following along, quietly grumbling to himself that his ass has gone numb or somesuch.

But when Garahel reacts that way, it's time to get serious. Yes, this is going to be messed up--it's kidnapping, after all. But the fearless warbeast who loves scritches and treats acting that way is a big red flag. He gives the pooch a firm pat on the side before trying the door. Locked, obviously.

"You guys pick locks, or just bust it in? Because bustin' makes me feel good."

"Can't pick a lock to save my life," Tessa states, brow furrowing at the dog's reaction. Dogs always know when something's up. "But I got pretty good at kicking doors in." All right, she was okay at it. It helped when the doors were old and crappy anyway, like this one is. For those fancy doors from Home Depot, she had let Mike kick those in.

"Church and I can do it, unless you know a fancy spell to unlock doors?" She raises a brow at Inessa. "Read about that in a book once." A kid's book about wizards, but hey, if magic's real here, maybe unlock spells are a thing too.

Inessa shakes her head, then pauses to clarify. "Unlock doors, no, but Stonefist will have about the same effect as either of you. But perhaps I should save my magic for whatever we might encounter inside." Since it doesn't give them a particular edge in this case, she's fine with hanging back.

"Unless there's a window open, kicking it down is our best bet." She paces around just to check for certain, but turns back to them and shakes her head. Force it is, then.

"Busting it is. Count of three?" Cuz he's not going to deny Tessa some door kicking. He doesn't think either of them really need help, it's not like...castle doors or anything, but kicking in doors always looks way easier on tv than it is in real life. An open window would be better, but what kidnapper's gonna leave an obvious escape route? Oh, man, unless the girl's brainwashed. Or happy here? Ditched the fiance? Or something worse?

It's usually something worse.

"On three, not three and then go." Just to make that clear since some people need that to be very clear.

"One...two...three." Boots to the door, and yeah, with two of them, a petty little cabin door lock is like nothing. Thank god for farmland and houses being probably miles from each other or whatever or the neighbors would be watching. It's a modest little place inside. Family home, about what you'd expect from the outside.

"Kinda want to shout that we're federal agents." Church now is not the time for quips. (It is always the time for quips.)

An open window would be handy, and here on a quiet farm it seems more likely, but not when these people are obviously hiding something.

On three, she kicks out with her heavy boot too, though chances are that more of the oomph came from Church. Still, she's contributing here! Going on missions is still sort of new for her and this is the first one without a clear leader too, so she's trying to not be a useless dumbass here.

"Right? Get down on the ground! That sort of thing." Tessa's smirking, which just goes to show she and Church may be bad influences on the other. But she gets over the roleplay soon enough, focusing on the space. It's not a big farmhouse, and as far as she can see there's no daughter just sitting in there unless she's hiding under the bed.

"Hello?" she tries, before searching around for any sort of paperwork, like maybe a letter from the daughter, or some obvious evil kidnapper list, like Buy more rope and Thedas chloroform.

Not minding the quips, Inessa nonetheless immediately focuses the moment the door is kicked in. Gripping her staff, she casts a thoughtful gaze around. There must be something, as Garahel would whine like that for no reason. Pausing at a table, she flips through their letters. "Nothing from the University of Markham...not that the lie was believable to begin with."

She huffs, still a little insulted that the parents thought they would buy that obviously fake excuse. Spotting no other papers than bills, she paces around...and then stops abruptly, lifting her head. "Did anyone else hear that?" It was so faint that Inessa wasn't sure if she had been imagining things or not, but...it could have been a moan. She waves her head, silently asking the others to quiet so they can listen for a moment.

He doesn't mind ransacking the place. What are these people gonna do, call the police? (Mental note: Thedas really needs more organized police forces. That aren't Templars. With reliable ways to reach them. Hm. Put a pin in that one.) Freshly washed dishes. A small pile of folded blankets. Normal stuff, not 'hey I'm a wicked kidnapper' stuff.

But when Inessa calls for silence, he pauses. Strains his ears. There's...something. "Wait." Kind of like metal clinking?

"Hey! We're here to help you out of here! Make some noise if you can hear us!"

Tessa likes to consider herself an expert on zombie moans, and that was definitely a normal person moan. She goes completely still, trying to pin down where it's coming from, and when that bright clink of metal is heard again, she carefully moves towards the sound.

"It's—" She stops herself in front of a china cabinet, or whatever they call a fancy plate holder in this world. Only there aren't any fancy plates in it. Or any plates, even though they're stacked by the sink. Look, she's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but she's hidden from zombies enough times to know that heavy furniture helps. And it's easier to move without breakables on it.

Crouching down, she brushes her fingers over the wooden floor, noting scuff marks coming out from the cabinet. She sticks her hand underneath and her heart starts racing.

"Fuck, underneath us. There's a trapdoor under here." Jumping back up to her feet, she doesn't bother to say the obvious; just grabs a corner of the cabinet and starts pulling and looking to the others for help.

A trapdoor; well, this keeps getting better. Inessa, short and slight, probably isn't going to be of much help moving the cabinet but she'll try anyway. The others heard what she had, which means they're on the right path. Though remembering Garahel's anxious whines, she steels herself for what they're going to find once the trapdoor is open.

Church is here to be big muscle, and does so pressing a shoulder to the other side of the cabinet and pushing. The wood scrapes obnoxiously, but it's true, it's a lot lighter without all the delicates in it. Not that he'd care at this point about breaking a few things. Serves 'em right.

When it's out of the way, he crouches down and feels for a latch in the door, gives the others a Significant Look, and hefts the door up. And it is a heft, because damn that's heavier than it initially seemed.

It's pretty clear that something's wrong when the scent of disease and infection wafts up.

The smell is all too familiar to Tessa, and there's a moment where she has to lean against the wall to collect herself. There's not a zombie down there, she firmly tells herself before pushing off the wall and looking into the space below to see the telltale green glow.

That spurs her into action, and Tessa carefully descends down into the cellar, eyes needing a moment to adjust to the low light. In the absence of a torch, she yanks off her leather glove to reveal her anchor and when the green light falls on the object of their search, it takes everything in her to keep moving forward when she's scared to. The woman's arm is gone, but the anchor is not, and green tendrils of Fade energy reach out through the air towards Tessa's hand.

"Elsie," she begins gently. "We're here to help you."

The scent that hits Inessa makes her stomach turn as she stares downward past the trapdoor, waiting until Tessa reaches the bottom before likewise climbing down. And then the rest of Elsie's situation is all too clear, nearly stopping the Warden in her tracks. She forces herself to note the details, every last one, knowing this could help them later...if not poor Elsie. With a pitying look -Maker, the woman is still conscious!- she closes the distance, less worried about herself since she doesn't have an anchor that could possibly be affected.

"I'll give her a bit of healing, hopefully that will relieve some pain." Her tone isn't too hopeful, though, and she silently hopes no one will force her to say the words aloud; there's no saving this woman, no as far gone as she is.

"Jesus."

Church comes down last, stopped by the sight for a few long moments before, too, pulling the glove from his hand, adding more ethereal green glow to the room. It reminds him, briefly, of Sina, but far more gruesome.

Elsie rattles her chains again, weakly, with another moan, and Church comes over by Inessa, places a hand to her forehead, her face, making a soothing noise. "She's burning up." No fucking fake, that's something that happens when you cut off a limb and don't do any proper care or have antibiotics or anything and then lock someone in a fucking basement. "Shh, hey, it's okay, you're okay. Someone wanna help me with the chains here? If we can tug them out of the wall, or find a key somewhere maybe."

"Yeah, yeah. Umm." Tessa moves to grab a chain and gives it a few good yanks, but it doesn't budge. Not surprising, since Elsie couldn't pull them from the wall. "I'll go find the key and you can heal her." She knows it won't be enough. Not now. Not unless Inessa has something up her sleeve that can completely remove an infection and heal whatever the fuck it is that the anchor's doing to Elsie's veins.

Tessa gets back upstairs and practically stumbles over a chair out of both haste and her shock. Muttering, "Pull it together. Pull it together," under her breath, she starts going through the family's personal items, hoping those assholes haven't taken the key with them. Outside there's a roll of thunder and it just makes her think she's in the setting of a horror film as she races to find what they need so they can get the hell out of here with Elsie. Anywhere is better than here. Even out in the rain. If she's going to die anyway, she should at least see the sky first.

Thankfully it doesn't take Tessa long before she finds a key in one of the china cabinet drawers, hidden under some starched white linens that she takes pleasure in throwing to the ground and stomping on with her dirty boot as she pulls the key out.

"Here!" she calls down before she reappears, holding a simple, unadorned metal key. "I hope this is it. Has she said anything?"

"No...I don't think she's exactly lucid, not right now." Perhaps that's for the best, given the horrifying conditions and pain endured. Inessa tries to tell herself that, but gazing at Elsie she can't imagine that any part of this is truly a reprieve.

Relieved upon spotting the key, she waits long enough for Tessa to unchain the poor woman. Church will catch her, she' sure, though the slight elven woman nonetheless tries to do her part if need be. Immediately afterward, Inessa envelops her in soothing blue light. "We're here, Elsie. You're not alone...." That bout of healing is followed by frost forming on her fingertips, as she rests them on Elsie's forehead for a moment.

Church is careful, keeps the injured arm (and creepy shard tendrils) away from him but keeps her close and cradled so she doesn't have to be laid out on the floor. This is the sort of thing he's been afraid of since Cassandra put a sword to his throat. How many others are out there, injured, mutilated, dead, because people can't accept this?

He gingerly moves his sharded hand along her shoulder, feeling the hardness under the skin. "We can get her to some healers, right? Some doctors, is there some--I don't know, herbal remedies for infection?" Even though for something like this, she's likely septic, and that's never...good.

Now that Elsie's free from the wall and Church has her, Tessa just sort of hovers nervously out of Inessa's way. She thought she was used to this shit: the mutilated bodies, the smell of decaying flesh; all of it. She just somehow became desensitized to it because that had been the way of the world. But this person isn't a zombie on a rampage. Elsie is like her and like Church. They got stuck with this piece of green light and people outside their little safety bubble in the Inquisition are major assholes about it.

"Maybe," she answers, "But the rest... I don't think herbs are gonna do anything." The green tendrils in the air make it clear that getting rid of their anchors isn't as easy as chopping off a limb. Seems like the anchor really wants to stay a part of whomever it strikes.

Talking this way in front of this woman makes Tessa feel sort of guilty. It sucks when people talk about you like you aren't there. "Hey. Hey, Elsie? Jacob sent us. He's been really worried about you. He wouldn't stop til he found out where you were."

Elsie doesn't speak, but her answering moan suggests she understands the name Jacob if nothing else. Tessa bites down on her cheek as she feels the familiar tingle in her nose that signals tears are going to start if she isn't careful.

Not taking her gaze off Elsie for a second, Inessa nonetheless considers what's said. "Our project has no record of herbal cures for an infection such as this kind. That said, we do have healers far exceeding my own skill. They might have more to say on this, but...." She sighs, applying more healing after a moment. "I would not hope for much."

After another bout, she finally straightens. "I can do more, but we can at least get her in more comfortable surroundings than these. Can you carry her back up, gently?"

"We'll deal with the--stuff later, I just want to get the actual straight up infection taken care of."

Which would be easier if times were more modern. If this lady had been in a military grade suit, a cut off arm would certainly suck, but biofoam and reactive bodysuits would've helped. Get her to an antigrav operating theater. Cauterized wound. Fresh enough, they might even have been able to reattach it, if the arm was kept on ice. Antibiotic rounds. Fit her with a prosthetic. Send her to rehab.

This place has wiggly blue magic and potions made of mashed up plant juice. When they get back, he needs to ask Cosima about rediscovering penicillin.

He readjusts his hold on Elsie, as gentle a princess carry as he can manage. "I got her. I could put her to bed, or we could at least grab some bedding--dunno how long we wanna stick around here." Garahel will let them know how much time they've got if it starts getting tight.

When he carries her part of the way up, she moans again, tries to shift, which doesn't get her anywhere. "I got you, I got you, we're gonna make sure Jacob knows, okay?" The rest of the way up goes without incident. Maybe the name settled her down.

"I'd rather get her out of this house, but it's started thundering out," Tessa says with a frown, following behind. "Maybe the bed for now, til we see if the weather holds. She should be stabilized first." Maybe Inessa knows something that can put her to sleep so they can carry her back to camp without hurting her? What a mess. Why are people such assholes when they don't understand something?

Tessa's news has Inessa glancing over as a frown tugs at her lips. "We may not have that much time, then. Her parents could decide to return due to the weather, after all." Her lips form a thin line, anger burning bright in those eyes. She would love to confront them as to what they've done, and that's warring with a desire to give Elsie as much peace and comfort as can be managed for the poor woman.

Still, Garahel is quiet for the moment so she heads over to the nearest bed and turns down the covers, gesturing for Church to set her down.

Edited 2018-10-15 18:26 (UTC)

"What, do you wanna stay here out of the rain and wait for her parents to come home?" It comes out through grit teeth as Church lays her out gently as he can.

"You know, I think our shards are helping? The--proximity. To others. Maybe we can turn this around yet. Not fix the--" He gestures to the tendrils sticking out of her arm, the solid masses creeping up her body. "But maybe it won't kill her?"

But even that sounds fake to his ears. That she's still alive, infection aside, is a miracle that won't be lasting long.

"Why not?" Tessa replies as Elsie is set down. "Then I can punch them both in the teeth." Which would probably hurt her knuckles a lot. She'd probably split them. It'd be worth it though.

"That's what they've always said." Her voice grows quiet and she kneels beside the bed to place a hand on Elsie's forehead. The cold magic still lingers there, but she knows the infection is burning her up inside. Thinking back to when she was a kid, she recalls having some sort of infection — maybe it was sinus, maybe it was ear — and getting prescribed those bubblegum flavored chewable pills that she was actually happy to take. And funnily enough, with magic, dragons, and who knows what else here, it's the fact that they can't just call 911 and whisk Elsie off to a hospital and get her on some medication that really gets to her. They can't just fix this. They shouldn't have to try and fix it. Parents should protect their kids and get them help when something's wrong.

"She was heading to Skyhold for help. They would've sent her to Kirkwall to be with us. To have our shards help her." Tessa strokes the poor woman's forehead. There's nothing wrong with being optimistic; for hoping for a miracle. But Tessa has tasted the realist side of things back home and knows that some things just aren't going to happen.

Elsie's breathing grows more labored and Tessa stands to move out of the way.

"Inessa, can you make her more comfortable again?" It doesn't look like they'll be fixing her up well enough to get out of here and back to camp with her alive.

Church's comment has Inessa eyeing their anchors before inspecting the mess that is Elsie's. She makes a doubtful noise, not daring to hope but it's an idea for another time and case. Perhaps it can save someone else, at the very least.

"It's very little, very late, but...."

Anyway, she nods to Tessa's request and summons some healing magic before summoning frost on her fingertips, careful where she applies it and for how long. Moments pass in silence as she works, peering anxiously at Elsie's face while doing so. That the poor woman seems to relax even just a little is something, but not enough to ease her guilt. They should have been here far earlier than this, when they could still save her.

And then she lifts her head and straightens, hearing Garahel's warning barks. "Here they come. We still represent the Inquisition, keep in mind...but I don't have to include everything in my report." Whatever they say to these mockeries of parents, Inessa will let it remain here.

"Like a few missing teeth?" Church rises to his feet and makes a motion of cracking his knuckles. They don't actually pop, which he's just gonna go ahead and figure is a good thing that means good things for his joints and bones instead of making him seem just a little like a weenie for it.

Hooves slow on approach, and a confused, muffled voice, deep but otherwise indistinct. "You want me to be in the doorway, big meaty man to intimidate them, or do we wanna send--no offense--one of you less intimidating ladies to play vaguely nice and lure them into a false sense of security?"

Tessa places a hand down on top her hand ax held in her belt and exhales a breath to steady herself. She wishes it was a lighter ax for flinging at people, because she kind of wants to do that the second either of Elsie's parents show their faces through the doorway.

"I'll go. Can't guarantee I can do 'nice' right now, but I'm sure letting them know that they're not touching her again."

She heads back into the front room, hand still resting on her ax. When the door opens, it reveals the flustered father, who's still focused on Garahel eyeing him and only notices Tessa after he turns his head.

"What are you—" he begins, but Tessa cuts him off.

"Hi there!" It's all faux brightness and light; completely the opposite of how she feels inside right now. Elsie's mother bumps into her husband's back, too preoccupied with watching the dog that's eyeing them. "So as you can see, we let ourselves in. Our big war dog out there could tell something was off, and we didn't want to make him angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry." It's always a plus when she can quote movies here and sound like a total badass instead of someone following a lame meme.

"See, it's pretty well known that the Inquisition rescues people hit with that freaky green light magic." She holds up her hand to show off the glow, kind of wishing hers had that cool laser beam ability so she could melt these two. "So we came here to help and, well, it looks like you two tried to take care of it and got in over your heads, huh?"

The husband's gaping mouth snaps shut and his eyes narrow, but the wife averts her eyes in shame. For a moment there's silence, before he erupts in anger.

"How dare you! You come into our home and meddle in our affairs? You had no right! No right at all!" His wife, bolstered by her husband's yelling, is quick to shed her shame and join in.

"That's right! We were taking care of it! You're trespassing, and we're going to—"

"TAKING CARE OF IT?!" Tessa screams, shoving her hand forward into their faces so suddenly that they both leap back and the wife practically trips over the threshold. "Look at it! This is what it looks like in a healthy person, who lives around others with an anchor shard. Now compare it to your daughter!" A daughter who may not be conscious, but probably shouldn't hear this yelling even unconsciously. Tessa is mindful of that and lowers her voice.

"You can't get rid of it by cutting it off. The Inquisition could have told her that if you'd let her go get help. Her wound's infected and you've got to know by now that she's dying." And try as she might, she can't stop her bitterness from surfacing. "That you killed her."

Elsie's father knows it. It's written across his face, but at the same time he doesn't want to take responsibility. He wants to believe he was a hero, saving his girl from the evil energy infesting her. His jaw sets and he stands firm.

"I want to see her," he demands. "What are you doing to her?"

"We are providing the care and comfort she should have received long ago, if you had not utterly disregarded basic decency and your duty as parents. She has been suffering for a long time...and needlessly at that. Her blood is on your hands, both of you."

Inessa doesn't yell, doesn't even stand up while she's tending to Elsie. But her eyes are narrowed and her tone couldn't be more frigid. It's harder than usual to keep her control, to stop herself from directing a blast of frost at the pair instead of keeping it localized to her fingertips. But if something happens, they shouldn't be the ones to start it. That she won't be able to keep from the report.

"I won't tell you to stay away, as long as you don't touch her. You should witness the full extent of what you've done, in every last detail. But if your yelling rouses her--"

Elsie's mother narrows her eyes in turn, outrage flaring up anew. "How dare you?! Who are you to tell us what to do in our own home--" Knife-ear. Inessa can tell she wants to say it and if there weren't two aggressive human companions with her, perhaps she might have. But Garahel interrupts with a growl, stepping in closer after the couple. He won't act without orders from Inessa, but that doesn't mean he won't keep the riff-raff in line.

"It's just a little fight." Church is soft, for Elsie only, rubbing the back of her remaining hand. "What would you call it? A row? A tiff? That's all it is. It's gonna blow over."

But it's time to join said little fight. He can only deescalate when he's trying very very hard and has time to consider his words. Like the Rifter uproar. Trying to keep the peace because he doesn't want his people to die. This is not that kind of scenario, and Church is gonna feel wholly and completely justified at being very Church at these people. He comes sauntering into the room, much larger than the two ladies in several ways and making certain that that is clear.

"Who are we to tell you?" His eyebrows shoot up, like he's genuinely surprised at the question. "Who are we? We're two Rifters and a mage, aka people who know what they're talking about. We're also members of the Inquisition. Maybe you've heard of them. The people in charge of saving the world from pure evil. That involves," he continues, louder, over the protests of the father, "helping people in need. That involves making sure people who happen to have magical shards in their hand understand how to use their abilities. Spoiler alert! These babies close the hellish rifts that shit out demons in your backyards! And THAT," with a point to Elsie's newfound room, "is what I would call pure fucking evil!"

Inessa had the control to not raise her voice, and Tessa to reel herself back in. Church does not. If his yelling rouses her, then that's on him.

The father licks his lips, considering in the silence that follows. To remain indignant and argumentative, or-- "We were...we were trying to help her. We burned the evil once we removed it, prayed for her--" It's not an admission of fault, per se, but it's not another 'how dare you'.

Church takes a page from Garahel's book and growls, closes the gap and shoves a finger in daddy dearest's chest hard enough to make him rock back. "You chained her up in your BASEMENT like a couple of redneck lunatic psycho killers, you disgusting fuck!" He punctuates with more pokes. "You two are gonna go in that room, you're gonna apologize to your daughter, you're gonna say your goodbyes, and then you're gonna pray for forgiveness for the rest of your natural lives after we take her with us. Or so help me god, your god, my god, fucking Odin for all I care, she won't be the only one dying from a brutally severed arm today."

It isn't everyday you get to pick a fight, and especially not a fight where the other party is so clearly in the wrong that you can hold that over their heads. But today is that day and if this was any other situation besides the one they're in with a girl currently expiring in the next room, then Tessa would be giving out high fives to Inessa and Church.

But the situation is what it is, and if word spreads that the Inquisition set loose its Rifters and a mage to harass local farmers, then they'll all be in trouble. Reaching out, she sets a hand on Church's arm. She considers them decent acquaintances who are always up for shooting the shit with one another, but she knows they aren't good enough friends that her touch alone can bring him down from his anger. He might jerk away, he might not, but at least she's trying to hold him in check so they all don't get a big fat F on their mission report or thrown in the stocks and pillory.

"You guys left her in agony down there. She doesn't have long left. So we're gonna take her with us and keep the pain at bay so she dies peacefully. And if you don't like that, then this guy's gonna rip cut off one of your arms and that mabari's gonna tear off the other." Tessa moves aside and jerks her head towards the bedroom. "You've got five minutes. Make it snappy."

Neither of them move forward. The father is swallowing nervously in the wake of Church's threat and the mother has lifted her arm to wipe under her sniffling nose with her sleeve. But then she moves around her husband, a tremor running through her as she heads towards the bedroom.

Having said her peace -and gratified that her companions took the opportunity as well- Inessa lapses into silence as she tends to Elsie. Church's yelling does rouse her a bit, but the elven Warden is quick to soothe her and darts him an understanding glance. She may have kept her temper -barely- but won't at all fault him for losing his, not even a little.

As the couple slowly enter, she keeps note of their proximity and positioning. Garahel, following them in, moves to act as a barrier the moment either one steps too close, a low and quite unfriendly rumble coming from him at that. Don't test him, bad humans. But they seem to have enough sense not to provoke the mabari, if nothing else. The mother bows her head after a moment and starts to mutter a prayer, most words aside from 'Andraste' and 'Maker' unintelligible except to her husband. Inessa picks up on the flow of it enough to remember the prayer for the dying, though it's not enough to soften her heart towards them. Far too little, far too late. They can choke on their prayers.

He doesn't shake Tessa off, to his credit. Nor does he follow them into the bedroom. His nostrils flare, huffing a little like maybe he does have some mabari in him, but his anger fortunately seems to be flash in the pan. Bright and furious for a few moments before it dies off.

This one might take a little more time, but he's not ripping off arms right now, so, plus?

"It shouldn't have to be like this." He paces back and forth a little. "Think this little show is gonna do any good for the whole 'rifters do not equal demons' thing?" Anger and threats aside, creepy spooky green tendrils growing out of an arm don't exactly scream safe and sound.

He won't pressure the parents to take exactly five minutes. He just wants this done with, that's all.

"Probably not," Tessa mutters, crossing her arms and looking over the scene in the bedroom with disdain in her expression. "But at this point scary Rifters are safer for her to be with than her own parents. Maybe they should think on that."

Husband and wife continue murmuring their prayers, neither touching Elsie or getting too close. Whether that's because of the giant watchdog, the Inquisition breathing down their necks, or the parents being too frightened by what their daughter's become to get near, Tessa can't say. What she can say is they definitely don't take five minutes, and if there were any apologies, they're too faint to hear. The two file back into the front room, eyes downcast.

"We're done," the husband announces with a note of finality to his voice.

There's a lot Tessa wants to say to that, but she knows it'll do nothing but make her feel like a badass for a moment and what good is that when you've got a dying girl on your hands that you can't save? It'd be a hollow victory. So she moves past them and into the bedroom to tuck a blanket around Elsie's body, so she has a bit of a barrier against the rain when they head out.

Inessa lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, relaxing a bit as the couple exit the room. When Elsie stirs, she renews her magic and afterwards searches in her bag for some lyrium bottles. It would probably be more practical to keep them for battle, just in case, but the poor woman has been through so much that Inessa can't bring herself to care. If she spends her time ensuring that her end is as painless as possible, it's magic well-spent.

When Tessa re-enters the room, she glances over. "We should go, sooner than later. Staying here won't do her any favors, she deserves to be somewhere more comfortable." And anywhere away from abusive parents would be more comfortable, guaranteed.

"C'mon, boy. Job's done." To Garahel, and he doesn't really want to use any identifying names even if the themselves are perfectly identifiable just because if word gets round, if something happens, then that's just...on them specifically.

Oh, sure, he's Inessa's preternaturally intelligent warbeast, but Church has bonded with him well enough to be comfortable with the biggest goodest boy.

Even through the blanket, the anchor tendrils give off a glow, and she still feels so hot like they just put her under an electric one, but...it is what it is. He could say something else to mummy and daddy dear, as their once daughter is carried away, something about how they're not going to burn her body right away, or they'll never know where she died only how, or...something that's not going to do any good.

It's just time to go, and that's that. "We've got you, 's okay, we're gonna take a nice and easy ride, get you as cozy as possible..."

"Yeah," Tessa replies, agreeing with Inessa that they should go. As she stands, she glances around the room. If these were normal circumstances she'd take a moment to find something familiar to take with them for Elsie. But they aren't moving her to a new location where they'll treat her and she'll be in tip top shape again. At this point, she's not sure they'll make it back to Kirkwall before Elsie dies. So she forgets that sentimental notion and heads out to give room for Church to scoop up Elsie.

Stepping outside, she finds the sky a darker shade of gray than before, with the gentle patter of rain against the roof. If the sky could express emotion like a person Tessa would say it's crying for the life that's slowly being snuffed out. A life that could have gone on, had fear not dominated the situation. Tessa looks down at her hand and the familiar glow it gives off along with the slight sting that's not so bad because Church is near. How could she have forgotten how powerful the anchor is? It can help close rifts. Just yanks them closed with an almighty crackle. Now she's reminded how strong it is. So strong it will keep growing and reaching out even without the body part it shines through.

She slides her glove back on and tries not to dwell on it anymore. There are more immediate matters to tend to. They'll be heading straight back to their camp to spend an uneasy night watching over the subject of their search. And then... well Tessa doesn't want to bring it up while Elsie's still breathing, even if they're all thinking it. They've got to tell Jacob somehow, and transport a body back to Kirkwall. This is gonna suck.

Garahel, still a bit tense, looks up and whines at Church, but listens well enough and pads away from the two older humans to follow the rest. Inessa quickens her pace to keep up with Church's longer strides, trying to keep an eye on Elsie as best she can...and the overgrown anchor that's now killing her. Granted, she can't see more than a glow through a blanket at this point, but that's not stopping the determined elven Warden from being at her side regardless.

The trip back silent, at least when it comes to Inessa. The heatrbreaking present and near-future is enough that she doesn't have the strength to voice it aloud, now that there aren't parents to chastise. Besides, she's in the presence of two other anchor-bearers, and that Elsie is a horrifying peak into a possible future can't possibly have escaped them. So, she'll remain focused on Elsie as long as she's breathing, respectfully giving the others space unless they bring it up. And after the tormented woman breathes her last...well, there will be another issue to address.

Even for someone as mouthy as Church, he feels the mounting pressure that is watching someone die. He's rarely had to deal with something like this. It's much more common here. Back home, much less. Bullets are clean enough that, even if you survive, you'll either die pretty quick, or you'll heal. He doesn't like this, any of it, and they do have to tell Jacob eventually, and this could be them in the future--not specifically this, but...something like it. Something like Sina.

Elsie lingers on (and it is lingering, that's exactly what it is) for a good while longer. Makes it to camp. Makes it until the rain peters off and the twinkle of stars just barely come through the clouds. And even makes it almost to morning. Almost.

"You guys know a good way of preserving a body?"

It sounds rough, but he doesn't mean it in an insensitive way. It's just...time is of the essence.

Tessa spends so long that evening just staring into the flickering flames of their campfire that she could swear she sees images moving there. Images of her with the anchor spreading up through her arm unchecked and of people running from her as green light pours from her mouth and eyes. She hadn't considered the anchor to be like an infection before, but it is, isn't it? Or some parasite that's taken control of a piece of her. What if one day it takes over her brain like the zombie virus does to people?

She thinks way too long on all this since none of them are feeling too chatty, and it's only the need for sleep that turns off the constant questions in her brain, but rest is short lived and she's up again to bear witness to Elsie's last moments. The question isn't a surprise since the thought's crossed her mind too.

"Can you, uh, pickle bodies? Like I know it sounds gross, but that's a way to preserve food so... thought I'd ask." She feels kind of stupid for asking, but it's not like she knows the intricacies of mummification here.

Garahel, noting the mood, doesn't pester anyone into playing fetch with him, though he does take turns leaning on people to give and receive comfort. Inessa, having lapsed into silence while keeping vigil by Elsie, finally speaks up though she doesn't take her eyes away from the poor woman. There's no more need for the frost at her fingertips now, but she looks at them thoughtfully.

"...I could encase her in ice; Winter's Grasp is a simple enough spell. I would have to renew it every so often, but it's not a high price as long as I keep lyrium potions on me."

Garahel's assistance hasn't gone unnoticed, and other than hugs and rubbing and squishing that good face, he'll get more attention later for his duties. Church rubs the back of his neck.

"Just let us know if you get too tired, okay? We don't need to drag two--" He winces and doesn't finish the sentence. "Sorry. Soldier humor. Not funny."

Normally Tessa's kind of wary of magic. She's not pigheaded enough to ignore that it's been magic that's been keeping Elsie from hurting too much in her final hours, but she's just not a huge fan. Magic's one of those things she'll never understand. Inessa may as well be speaking Greek to her.

"Sounds good. Are we gonna have problems with getting a ride with her that way? Like I dunno all the laws about transporting dead people here." Hell, she doesn't know the laws about transporting dead people back home either, but she figures you've got to have a license or paperwork for that kind of thing.

"Local laws are not my area of expertise, to be honest. But if we say it's Inquisition business -which it is- I suspect they'll let us pass." Inessa shrugs, not sure what else to offer there. As a Grey Warden, she's used to more or less the same approach and not being overly bothered. No one wants to interfere with Warden business or get conscripted.

Nodding to Church, she manages a ghost of a smile. "I will, but I shouldn't need to rest longer than it takes for the ice to hold after each renewal. We'll make this count."

Edited 2018-10-24 15:51 (UTC)

"If anyone looks like they wanna arrest us, they're gonna have to deal with the Inquisition, and also, y'know, a mage, two spooky demons in human guise, and a borfy wardog. So I mean." Try and stop them, honestly.

"Who's best at words here, between us? Cuz...someone's gonna have to write Jacob. About all this."

"Inessa," Tessa answers without even having to consider it. She knows she isn't the right person to provide comforting words. She could try, but she'd probably make a faux pas or unintentional say something unfortunate.

"I think you'd be the best person."

Nodding slowly, Inessa stares sadly at the inert form of his fiancee. Tessa and Church have helped plenty, and she wouldn't want to put that task on their shoulders anyway.

"...alright. I'll start drafting something now, I think. The longer I put it off, the harder it'll be to write later."

"We'll take care of the heavy lifting, literally, if you do the magical lifting and the...wording." Yeah, nobody was ever going to suggest Church write anything. "And Garahel can do the barking. All right, let's get this show back on the road. Before mom and dad get some fellow farmers together with pitchforks and shit."

{ CLOSED } Seeking Out Missing Woman with an Anchor

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