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Entry tags:
I HEART FALL | Closed.
WHO: Thor, Fingon, Kostos, Gareth, Coupe
WHAT: Prepping the Ghislain Circle
WHEN: Backdated a little, gomen.
WHERE: Ghislain
NOTES:
WHAT: Prepping the Ghislain Circle
WHEN: Backdated a little, gomen.
WHERE: Ghislain
NOTES:
Located a safe distance outside the city,
the Ghislain Circle has been largely abandoned since the Rebellion.
More heavily-protected than most Orlesian Circles, the tower is best described as 'sort of depressing'. You could add 'remarkably secure': Beyond the broken gates, its tiny windows are barred, the doors are thick and bolted, and some locks can only be opened through the manipulation of lyrium.
Despite some damage and neglect, the fortress poses an alluring target for the enemy. Figure out what to do about that.
WHAT DO WE DO WITH IT | group or solo or w/e
"The walls are still thick." A benefit, or a hindrance to knocking the thing down. "If taken, it could prove difficult to regain."
Also that. They're yet a distance away, still to make the final approach — and doubtless, what lies within will sway any judgment. But she'd sooner have some indication now, should anyone prove set upon destruction. They've been given some sanction, and it wouldn't raise the same alarms of Nevarra City.
Even so. Accidents can happen, when buildings fall.
no subject
It's not a serious suggestion. It's also not a joke so much as a sullen kick at nothing and no one in particular. No one had to twist his arm to get him here—he knows the place, better than he knows any of the other Circles he ricocheted through—but the closer they get the more he feels like blaming someone else for his own impulse to assist. Probably the Commander. She has a blamable face.
no subject
"There are refugees," He points out, though he doesn't look convinced by his own words. "Though I would think they'd feel a little better in some place that doesn't look like a prison." Which are all Circles, he doesn't say, because he isn't an idiot. "But. They'd be safe. Probably." He already knows which option he wants, but considering both he and Kostos were present for the Incident in Nevarra’s Circle, it wouldn't be a good look for them to be jumping at the bit to blow it sky high.
Besides, there might be interesting objects in there. That might be worth letting it stand a little longer.
no subject
Prison is too, in some ways. There are very few lions in prison. Prisons generally lack lightning. No floods —
Alright. Most prisons. Her jaw shifts, and it's for Gareth's presence she doesn't chew on further bait. Minrathous could have ended a dozen different ways; returning their own alive wasn't a given. If you cannot retrieve them,
Well.
"But if it lacks for exits, we may only make a second siege." A glance back to Kostos, measured, "You recall no others?"
no subject
He'll be here all day. Unfortunately.
But after a pause that's swollen with aimless loathing, he adds, "There might be one in the Templars' quarters. I never saw them. Or hidden passages, for their use—if we can find a map."
More likely there wouldn't be one. Too easy a thing to lose.
"If we intend to use it for civilians, we will need to check all of the rooms for—for hazards. Some mages were sent here for a good reason."
EXPLORING | solo threads
CARETAKER
Signs of violence are limited to a few especially scorched and broken corridors, and someone seems to have tidied the place for a time: There are no great heaps of rubbish, or ominous lingering skeletons.
The reason for this becomes apparent if the party makes their way far enough into the dormitories, where the rotting corpse of an elderly Chantry sister can be found curled up in a bed. It’s perhaps a year or two old, and has been heavily chewed upon by mice. There’s little of value in the room, but the small icon of Andraste has jet eyes that can be pried out.
The name sewn into her robes reads 'Joyous'. It may be possible to seek out those who knew her, or to give the body rites.
LOOT
Near all of the Circle’s arms are gone — but there may be some apprentice staves (aren’t those just sticks?) in a closet, and most books and research equipment have remained on their shelves. The latter are often large, delicate, or otherwise unwieldy to transport; if the party wishes to recover these, they may need assistance, or a more novel solution.
When most left the Circle, it seems to have been in a hurry: Maps, reagents, and small personal trinkets have often been left behind in both the Mage quarters, and the Templar barracks. There’s a strange-looking candle that, if burned, produces a noxious scent and stinging in the eyes of everyone nearby. There’s a flute covered in intricately-carved skulls (playing it just makes stupid little honking sounds). There are — here and there — a number of untripped traps.
Near the Infirmary, someone’s Deep Mushroom garden has completely overrun the room, but others retain perfectly usable mattresses and blankets. The underside of one bed has a number of names scratched into it.
RECORDS
Accessing Circle documents requires entering the upper levels.
The office of the First Enchanter features a lyrium-locked cabinet. It doesn’t immediately respond to a templar, or to a mage; apparently, you just have to know how to do it. You can search for the method (anyone skilled in glyphs might reverse-engineer it), or break it open by conventional means — but the wood’s very sturdy, and somehow not flammable. Get inventive, or take it with you.
Within is personal correspondence, rejected research proposals, budget overviews, filed complaints, one set of disciplinary records, and a little squishy ball. Squeezing it seems to fill you with a sense of deep sense of calm. Nothing has been updated since the First Enchanter’s apparent journey to Val Royeaux, which he expresses some concern for in an unsent letter: He doesn’t like horses, or Seekers, or the Grand Enchanter, all of which are bound to be involved.
The second set of records can be found in the Knight-Commander’s office, located in a similar cabinet. The two don’t exactly match: The First Enchanter’s documents include a number of mage-to-mage conflicts, and lesser offenses that appear to have been swept under the rug. The Chantry records, by contrast, carry more extensive detail of the history of mages present (a large number of whom appear to have been transferred in) and include files on the Templars and Chantry members in service. A very nice portrait of Divine Justinia has been removed from the wall, and placed face-down on the desk.
The Captain's quarters, located nearby, are tidy and free of decoration. There's no body, but neither has there been a great effort to get out the bloodstains.
Caretaker
"Would the Knight-Commander here have some record of her next of kin?" he asks. "It there's anyone who would miss her, they should know."
no subject
The shake of a head doubles for assessment: Unlikely, considering the precautions upon the gate, the enchantments that remain. She wouldn't have entered alone, not without someone to twist the lyrium.
Displacing the sheets brings dust and rat droppings with it, strips of skin flaked for teeth and neglect. It's been a while since she moved any corpses this old, and despite herself, Wren lingers for the sight of it. She's never been squeamish, has never been accused of an excess of sentimentality —
"The town would know, perhaps."
Maker, let battle take her before it comes to this.
no subject
There don't seem to be any other artifacts, but perhaps there are other ways that he can be of use. Whatever the state of the corpse's flesh, the bones of her skull still stand- if he could find a book and quill, he might be able to draw something close to what she looked like in life.
He shakes off the morbid thought of what his old tutors would say in Tirion about that when his gaze passes over Coupe. There's something odd about her gaze.
"Ser Coupe? Are you well?"
THE DUNGEONS | group or solo
FALL
It only takes a misstep, and the crack of strained timbers.
Gravity asserts itself before sense. You plummet, a long fall into rubble — and the remains of Ghislain's dungeons. Ouch.
There's no light, beyond what might filter from above, or your own hands might produce. Digging yourself out enough to travel means a foray into the cold and dark. The cells are sturdy, runed, and will significantly dampen any magical ability. All are empty, doors open and swinging, but show no signs of the tidying from floors above: Mildew and mold have accumulated, here and there the scrape of rats.
PRISONER
At the far end — where the doors become thicker, the quarters more cramped — a rustle of bones and cloth within. While it's trapped, you're safe. But to dispatch it, you need to open the door.
It would very much like you to open the door.
EXIT
Though the Circle's depths extend underground, many tunnels have been artificially filled, or collapsed by time. Following one will eventually lead to a hidden staircase, up and back into the Circle proper. Should you keep it open?
Prisoner
For all the humor in his words, the eyes that scan the door are cold- those of an old soldier assaying an unfamiliar threat.
"Would anyone else care to come, or shall I bring my host your regrets?"
no subject
It’s unclear if this is a warning or an offer for help, and Gareth doesn’t look like he’s entirely sure which one it is, either.
no subject
Looking over at Gareth, he adds, "My thanks for the advice, but I'm afraid too many have tried before you. I must be quite immune to good sense by now. Would you like to go, though? If you're truly against it, you needn't stay."
no subject
Both of them. Flame flickers from the end of her blade, casting light onto a deep frown as Wren rounds the corner. How in fuck did this get down here? (Not the body, that's easy —) Who left it be? (Left it, while the others left —)
A glance over her shoulder; they're in tight surroundings. A few spells flung incautiously, and they could join the thing. An intake of breath,
"The cell will be warded." Makes sense, this deep into what's plainly solitary. "If we set it out, we need a plan."
Leaving it seems a poor idea, for all it might take some Anders with it. Demons hardly rest upon the laurels of destruction, and the Venatori too like to use it. The corpse cocks a spindly, clawed hand to one dessicated ear, inclines its head in a show of bare grinning teeth. It's listening.
no subject
"Perhaps out of our eavesdropper's hearing, then? I would so hate to have to ruin it's surprise simply because it has no manners."